The Last of Our Kinds
by SauceryAmbrosius
Summary: Merlin sits on the banks of the Lake of Avalon, awaiting Arthur's return. The last thing he expects is a flying police box to crash to earth, containing a rather strange man. Little does he know of the story about to unfold.
1. chapter 1

Merlin swirled his quickly-cooling coffee as he gazed out across the lake for perhaps the billionth time in the past thousand years. After all, he spent most of his time there since Arthur's death, the words of the dragon propelling him to its banks for years on end. When Albion's need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. Merlin gazed sullenly at the still trees, glowering at the calm chirping of sparrows as they prepared to leave for the winter. He almost wished for a grand catastrophe, for murders taking over the news industry, screams in the distance, anything to signify Arthur's return. He had a full knowledge of the morbidness of this wish, and would never have wished it in his youthful state, mucking out stables. Over the past couple of years, he had become frustrated with spending days on the same rock on the banks of the same lake, gazing out at the same spire. It was made worse when he remembered Arthur's glassy, lightless eyes gazing at him before Merlin laid a hand on his icy skin and shut his lids. When he remembered the crimson flames eating up the Camelot crest, singing the golden hair, before completely consuming his best friend, and making everything they shared meaningless.

Merlin shut his eyes against the sudden tears, wiping them on his navy-blue t-shirt. He drained the last dregs of his coffee, crumpled up the styrofoam cup, and stuffed it in his pocket. He rose to his feet, stretching. He supposed he should go to work, but then he would have to endure Elyssa, a shamelessly flirtatious nurse, who had been trying to rope him into dinner for weeks. In truth, he would sell his own soul to avoid dinner with her. The woman always left her shirt buttoned just low enough to be suggestive, but not against the dress code, wore these ridiculously tall, firetruck-red high heels that made her gait louder than a dragon walking across dead leaves. Her lips were the same color as her shoes, which seriously clashed with her swamp-green eyes. Merlin liked to think that her laugh sounded like an asthmatic walrus begging for food, which made him smile when she did so. Unfortunately, she took that as encouragement and forcefully wrote her number on his hand. Merlin chuckled to himself. He never thought pushy women would be a problem.

Rather than write a report on his most recent diagnosis, he decided to walk down the banks for a while, possibly scope out a new place to linger and watch. So he wandered, picking little red posies along the way, and idly weaving them together. He wondered how he would know if Arthur were to return. For the sake of dramatics, he imaged that it would be accompanied by an astronomically loud explosion, accompanied by a blast of light.

Well, in short, that's what he got.

A bright light briefly overwhelmed Merlin's senses, causing him to throw his arms up in protection. Yes, the loud noise was there too, but not the kind Merlin expected. It was a sort of wheezing, as if the sky had contracted a serious case of the cold. Why would the sky wheeze when Arthur returned? Merlin was sure Arthur would be quite offended by the predicament.

Merlin blinked the spots from his eyes in time to see the strangest sight he had ever beheld. A bright blue police box from the 1940's doing cartwheels through the air without any apparent support. Merlin had used a telephone box on more than one occasion, but he had never thought he would see one performing level 10 gymnastics. That's when he noticed the black smoke pouring out of the crack between the doors, which only made his heart beat faster than it already was, and heightened his level of anxiety, but also curiosity.

After completing a rather impressive triple pirouette, the phone box began to hurtle towards the ground. Merlin watched in helpless confusion as the box crashed to earth with a resounding BOOM, digging into the ground until it stood, lopsided.

After a moment of steady smoking and flaming, the door to the box flew open, accompanied with a burst of steam. A figure tumbled out of it, brown fabric flapping haphazardly as it rolled. A rather sweaty man stood, straightening his robe as he rose. He was about 6 feet tall, astronomically thin, with a mop of mousy brown hair sticking up every which way.

He shook his head to clear it, then pivoted on the spot, viewing the crash sight. He put hands angrily on his hips as a splinter of wood split off the frame with a creak and a snap.

"Come on, old girl," he crooned softly, resting his hand on the door. All at once, something exploded inside, and the box was engulfed in flames. The man reeled pack in panic screaming, "MY TARDIS! NO, NO, NO, THIS IS THE SECOND TIME THIS MONTH!" He continued to scream as he tugged a bucket from inside the box, and began to throw water over the burning wreckage.

Merlin watched the whole ordeal with his jaw on the floor. The sight was just so bizarre, a monk throwing water over a 1940's telephone box that just crashed from on high, which had been doing unsupported aerial ballet not two minutes ago.

The man finished extinguishing the flames, dropped the bucket on the ground, and collapsed next to the box in exhaustion. It was then that he noticed Merlin.

"Oi, what are you doing here?" The man glared at Merlin somewhat defensively.

"This is a public area, you know," retorted Merlin weakly. The man eyed the city behind Merlin's shoulder, and the signs against littering spaced across the rocks.

"Well, so it is," The man leapt to his feet then, surprising Merlin when he took his hand and shook it vigorously. "Well then, 'allo mate. I'm The Doctor." The man said this quite quickly, and Merlin had to strain to distinguish one word from another. The sudden change in mood left him off-balance.

"Doctor who?" Merlin sputtered as he gingerly pulled his hand away. The Doctor flashed a toothy grin as he started to struggle out of his monk's garb.

"I love it when they ask that," he said, yanking the robe over his head. Underneath it he was wearing a beige suit with a vibrantly red bowtie. His hair now stuck straight up with renewed vigor.

"All right, but honestly, who are you?"

"The Doctor."

"Ok, you're a doctor, so am I, but what's your name?"

"...The Doctor."

"Honestly, now you're having a go at me. Seriously now."

"The. Doctor."

"I heard you the first time-"

"The Doctor. That's my name. Just the Doctor. Always has been always will be."

"But-"

"The Doctor. Now shut up and let me fix my TARDIS." He turned and started to walk away. But then he stopped, pivoted and walked back. "Before you shut up and I go fix my TARDIS, who are you?"

Merlin smirked mischievously. "What kind of a fool's question is that? I am who I am, I am who I was, and I am who I will always be." The Doctor glared at him.

"And you accuse me of having a go at you?"

"Well, I'll stop having a go at you if you stop having a go at me and tell me your name."

"I did!"

"That's not a name, you clotpole!"

"Well, it's my name you… imbecile! What's your name?" Merlin crossed his arms stubbornly. "All right, if you really want me to tell you my name, you're going to have to fix the universe when it splits in half." Merlin simply stared at the man in bewilderment. The Doctor stared right back.

"I'm Mer-- Martin. Yes, Martin is my name," said Merlin in an attempt to break the silence. He flinched. He was never a good liar, yet people seemed to buy his excuses all the time. He hoped that this man would do the same. The Doctor stared at him for a moment before a smile split his face. Then, he doubled over laughing. Merlin could not imagine what was so amusing. There were thousands of people in the world with the name of Martin. That's what he went by at work, and nobody else started laughing when he introduced himself.

"Sorry," panted the Doctor, wiping tears from his eyes. "I just bet my friend Amy-" His face hardened. He had to stop changing emotions so quickly, or Merlin would jump in the lake. Thankfully, the Doctor shook it off and smiled again. "But really? Martin? That's the best you could do?"

"What's wrong with Martin?"

"Nothing's wrong with Martin, it's a fantastic name, you just looked up into the heavens as if you were asking God what your name was. He obviously didn't tell you, because you looked just as confused when you told it to me." Merlin glared so hard at the Doctor, he was surprised he didn't flinch in pain.

"Merlin," he growled, "My name is Merlin." The Doctor's eyes widened. Then he started bouncing in place, which caused Merlin to back away a couple of steps.

"NO WAY!" yelled the Doctor. "Like the Merlin? Is this the Lake of Avalon?!" He spun around, taking in all the sights around him, drinking in every detail.

"Of course not the Merlin, do I look like an old wizard with a beard?" laughed Merlin awkwardly. "I don't go about wearing a pointy hat, I mean, that Merlin's just a myth, isn't he?"

"Well, judging by your uncomfortable look, I'd say not!" The Doctor then began to bombard him with questions, enough to fill a list (no really, he pulled a list out of his jacket pocket). When the Doctor paused for breath, Merlin put up a hand to stop the tirade.

"I need a drink." Then, he walked in the direction of his house, the Doctor bouncing behind him like an overexcited puppy.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor frantically tried to smooth down the rat's nest on his head, attempting to contain his excitement. He had read about Merlin over and over again for hundreds of years, and still never got tired of the endless tales his life spawned. He supposed that a lot of them weren't true, but he still felt in awe of the man walking beside him.

Granted, he didn't look like the gallant, kind, and wise sorcerer the Doctor imagined him to be. He seemed to be in his early 30's, with jet black hair and a bit of stubble lining the lower region of his face. He wore a navy-blue t-shirt with a leather jacket over the top of it, with black jeans. There were extra lines in his face, from years upon years of expression, and there was a small inkling of extra maturity in the way he carried himself. But what really gave him away were his eyes. Thousands upon thousands of years hid behind those sapphire eyes, and with those years came tribulation. This man was a hurricane imprisoned in a raindrop, chaotic yet trapped, utterly given in to suffering he never saw coming, with no way out.

Merlin was always one of the Doctor's favorite figureheads because he was the only one that could ever hope to begin to understand the burdens the Doctor carried himself. But what of the magical talents he possessed in the legends? As far as the Doctor knew, magic was complete poppycock. He was dying to have a conversation with him, but Merlin walked in complete silence, and the Doctor felt it impolite to intrude.

The Doctor's musings were interrupted when Merlin turned off the main road and started to walk toward the forest.

"Er, where are we going?"

"My house."

"You live in the woods?"

"Yes." There was no elaboration, so the Doctor decided to take it as it came. They entered the cool shade of the woods, traversing a well worn path in semi-companionable silence. A river gurgled alongside the path, adding soothing background noise. Mockingbirds chirped in the trees, the sun filtered through the leaves, and the colors all around were rich, yet the Doctor could feel a tension coming off of Merlin. He couldn't blame him. He was born in the medieval ages after all, and a flying telephone box didn't agree with anyone at first.

After trudging along for about 10 minutes, coming across a few forks in the road, daisies began to sprout in abundance, along with bluebells. The trail curved right up head, and as they rounded it, the Doctor felt as if he had walked straight into a fairytale.

A small cobblestone path led to a modest cottage, a water wheel coming off the side, turning in time with the music of the river. The cottage itself looked to have been modeled after a child playing with blocks, with a room jutting out from the main body of the structure, a small top floor resting on top of it, and an even smaller attic drawing the roof into a point.

But the true beauty did not reside with the cottage alone. Lilac trees encircled it like guardians, and their purple petals laid over the emerald green grass. Rose bushes of all kinds grew up the side, vibrant reds, pinks, yellows, and even TARDIS blues shone. Flanking the house were some of the most vibrantly colored flowers the Doctor had ever seen, on earth. Daffodils and carnations burst forth, almost glowing, their petals refusing to fade, even as winter approached. Chrysanthemums grew on the roots of the lilac trees, and petunias vied for attention among violets and tulips. Zinnia dotted the river's banks, leading to a white gazebo in the distance where the river emptied into a lake.

It was the Doctor's turn to gape as he stared at the fabulous array. He turned to Merlin, who was staring at him, as if to gauge his reaction.

Instead of expressing his wonder, the Doctor instead said, "It looks like spring threw up on your house." Merlin glowered at him. "So if you're Merlin, where's King Arthur?"

All the life suddenly drained out of Merlin's eyes as he got in the Doctor's face. "Shut. Up." The Doctor backed away, startled. Merlin stepped away also, an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry, I'd rather not talk about him. And yes, I like flowers. Let's just clear that out of the way."

He stalked up the path and unlocked the door, the Doctor close behind. The inside of the cottage was warm and bright. The fragrance of the flowers outside floated in through the window, and the flowing of the river could be heard. Something cooked in a crockpot in the kitchen, and it's odor mixed with everything else, causing the Doctor to breathe in deeply. Merlin first checked on whatever was cooking, then opened a cabinet by the fireplace. He drew out a bottle of wine, blowing off the dust it had collected. He contemplated the label for a bit before bringing it to the table along with two glasses. He sat, and looked at the Doctor expectantly.

"Are you going to sit down, or is your mother going to be upset when she finds you drinking wine?"

"Wine?"

"Yes, wine."

"I've never had that before."

"Well, this is a big step in your maturity."

"I'm 1200 years old, you lily livered marmoset."

"Fine words! I wonder where you stole them. Well, all right you cabbage head, I turned 2,542 two weeks ago." The Doctor's eyes widened as a smirk spread across Merlin's face. This man was alive over one thousand years before he was even a twinkle in his father's eye.

"We-well, happy late birthday." Merlin's smirk widened as he gestured to the seat in front of him. The Doctor sat with renewed respect. Merlin poured the wine, and handed a glass to the Doctor, and he took it gingerly, eyeing the burgundy liquid. He knew nothing about wine, possibly because his companions would never let him have it. Or alcohol. Or anything with too much sugar. Probably with good reason. He didn't know if etiquette was included in drinking wine, but he decided to suppose there was, just in case.

He stuck his pinkie out and puckered his lips, raising the glass. He was so concentrated on making sure he did not look like a fool in front of Merlin, that it startled him when he spoke.

"What are you doing?" The Doctor looked up to see Merlin casually drinking wine as he would water. Embarassed, the Doctor put down his pinkie. "So, who-what are you?"

"I told you--"

"No, like, where did you come from, what's a TARDIS, and why does your box fly?" Before speaking, the Doctor correctly took a sip of his wine. Flavor exploded across his tongue, and a delightful buzz began in his stomach.

"Well, the TARDIS is my box."

"Why is is called a TARDIS?"

"It stands for 'Time and Relative Dimension in Space.' It's bigger on the inside, and it can travel through time and space. Yes, it's a time machine. Where did I get it? My home planet, Gallifrey. I'm an alien? Yes I am. I've got two hearts, and can regenerate into a new body when it's time for me to die, which is why I'm 1200 years old." Merlin looked incredulous at the sudden intake of information. "People always ask the same questions. Well, anyway, what about you? Your story must be infinitely more interesting than mine."

"Well, I don't think I could beat an alien with a time machine, but I was born in the Medieval ages, I'm too lazy to find out exactly when. I was born in poverty, in a small village called Ealdor, just on the borders of Camelot, right inside Lot's kingdom. Camelot had outlawed magic long ago, after 'purging' it from the earth. Magic was practiced voluntarily, no one was born with the skill. Until me. I didn't need to study magic or learn incantations to use it. As I got older, my magic got more powerful, and more noticeable. If Uther found out about a sorcerer in Lot's kingdom, he would forsake his boundaries and hunt me down. My mother sent me to Camelot to enlist help from a man named Gaius, the court physician, who was educated in vast realms of magic, and was one of the few who was kept alive after the purge. He taught me how to harness my magic, and use it for good. But then came the dragon…" Merlin continued to tell the story of his youth, it was vastly different from what the Doctor had read. He had no idea the Morgana was good once, that Merlin was Arthur's servant, and that Arthur was destined for so much.

The names were familiar, as were the beasts he mentioned, but the events that involved them were not. The Doctor was completely captivated. The story was a lighthearted one in the beginning, making the Doctor laugh until tears came, but as the story went on, things got darker.

"I escaped from the Crystal Cave with my magic back, and approached the Battle of Camlann. In all my years, I have never seen anything more horrifying. So much death, it seemed to infect the air itself. Brother killing brother, friend murdering friend, lightning struck, fire burned, and the smell of blood was all there was," Merlin closed his eyes, as if reliving it. "Morgana snatched away life as if it belonged to her, as if she had a right. Until I took care of it. I called off her dragon and caused her to flee. I couldn't see Arthur anywhere, so I went looking for him in the canyon. I climbed over bodies until I found him standing over the inanimate form of Mordred, with his hand clamped on his side, his legs shaking. He collapsed then, and I carried him out of danger, into the safety of the woods, where I inspected his wound. It seemed to be a nonfatal sword wound, that would heal given time, but I couldn't be sure."

He told of how Arthur discovered his magic, then suddenly stopped.

"What happened? Was Arthur okay? Was magic restored?"

"Magic was restored through Gwen, but that's all I'm willing to share."

"But what about Arthur?" Merlin stayed silent, his eyes burning. The sudden realization hit the Doctor like a truck, why Merlin was so pained and aggressive when Arthur was mentioned. "Oh, I see." Merlin lowered his gaze. They sat in silence for a time as the Doctor thought of what to say. He had lost more than most people could comprehend, so he hid it to avoid the classic pity treatment. After all, people's apologies don't bring back what he lost. But at the prospect of meeting someone who would understand, he let himself feel it for just a moment. Every life he had seen end, every life he had ended, every universe he had seen burn out, every civilization he had seen crumble to dust. He took a shaky breath. "Losing people is never easy, is it?" was all he could think to say. Merlin shook his head.

"That's why I stay unconnected. So I don't have to do that again."

"It must get lonely, though."

"Sometimes."

"For me, travelling wherever the universe needs me, I find having a companion quite useful."

"Isn't it dangerous for them?"

"Since when is getting hunted by aliens safe?" That earned a chuckle from Merlin. "But they know exactly what they're getting into, and they're eager. It doesn't make losing them any easier, but my life in general gained much more of a flair."

"Flair?"

"If you'd like." Merlin looked stared at his empty glass, contemplating his words.

"Have you ever considered finding a companion that you wouldn't lose?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I've stayed in this same cottage for nigh on 900 years, only leaving for work, and let me say, pruning begonias gets boring. I've seen everything on this world that I want to see. I've seen empires rise and fall, I've seen infinite births and deaths, lives playing out, I've seen and fought in any war you care to name, and I've ensured victory for my side. Plus, you have completely avoided talking about yourself, I still don't know anything about you. All in all, I'd like to get out of here." Merlin gazed at the Doctor pleadingly, as the Doctor processed Merlin's request.

Merlin? His hero? Travelling with him? The Doctor could not have wished for anything more. He wasn't used to travelling with someone who would be less impressed by some of his usual dramatics, but it would be good to have someone to relate to, and earning Merlin's respect and favor presented a delightful challenge.

"My TARDIS should be fixed by morning." Merlin opened his mouth as if to ask how that were possible, then closed it again, resigned to the fact that he wouldn't understand anyway.

"And? Will you allow me to travel with you?" The Doctor's heart picked up as he imagined it.

"Yes


	3. Chapter 3

Merlin pulled the blankets up to his chin, staring at the ceiling. So much had happened, he could hardly believe that the entire day hadn't been a figment of his imagination. And alien. A time-travelling alien. A time-travelling alien that was going to take him into outer space. In a telephone box. That flew. He chuckled to himself. If only his friends from Camelot could see him now.

The Doctor snored loudly from down below. Merlin glared at the door, willing him to stop. He didn't, of course. He was tempted to use magic and make him stop, but he didn't want to risk strangling his ride out of this place.

He inhaled deeply, his eyes closed. The sweet scent of flowers overwhelmed his senses, helped along by a clean breeze from the lake. He focused on the soft rushing of the stream, and allowed it to lull him to sleep.

Merlin shrugged on his leather jacket, looking about the room. His clothes and some precious possessions occupied the suitcase on his bed, but he felt like he was missing something. He checked under the bed, behind the curtains, in his nightstand, but he could find nothing of consequence to take.

His eyes then fell upon his wardrobe. It was the same wardrobe he had used when he lived with Gaius. He hadn't opened that in years. He opened it now, and was greeted by a puff of dust. After a fair amount of coughing and wheezing, he beheld the contents. His old jacket greeted him, thin, pressed leather with crooked stitches, made soft by years of use. Indents by the neck were reminders of when Arthur used to grab it to pull him out of the line of fire, or taking one step too many on a hunt, or just plain horseplay. A neckerchief hung over it. His mother had knitted him that neckerchief the day before he left Ealdor for Camelot. She had promised that it was infused with good luck, and over the years, Merlin had come to believe it.

He smiled a sad smile at the memories, and tucked the items into his case. Even if he wasn't going to wear them, he wanted to keep them close.

Merlin made his way outside, and found the Doctor holding a key in his hand. The Doctor turned and flashed a smile at him.

"She should be all fixed up and broken in, now. A day is usually enough," said the Doctor, staring avidly at the key. "You're about to be in for the adventure of your life." Merlin believed it, of course. What else was to be expected? They stood there for a number of minutes as the Doctor continued staring at the key.

"It's not working," the Doctor groused. "Why isn't it working?"

"Here, let me try," offered Merlin, holding his hand out for the key. The Doctor held it away from him, a defensive scowl on his face.

"She won't work for you."

"Who knows?"

"She's mine."

"Okay, control freak, I just want to get off this planet." The Doctor handed over the key, still scowling. Merlin took the small silver trinket and closed his fingers over it, concentrating on the blue box. "âðollan forniman me," murmured Merlin. He felt the familiar burn in his eyes, accompanied by the distinctive wheezing of the TARDIS materializing. He turned to see the Doctor staring at him, not with incredulousness, as Merlin expected, but with scientific calculation. The look unnerved him, but not enough to keep him from putting the key in the lock and stepping inside.

He had been forewarned about the size difference between the outside of the TARDIS and inside, but the sheer impossibility of a network of rooms bigger than his cottage fitting inside of a telephone box totally overwhelmed him.

The first room was cut into a bowl shape, generators pockmarking the walls, with staircases leading off to additional levels. There was a control panel in the middle, with seemingly random buttons and knobs strewn haphazardly over it. The floor was made of glass, so the ship's central core was visible, with a small staircase leading down to that. The whole scene was illuminated by an orangish glow.

"How many rooms does this thing have?" Merlin asked wonderingly, running his hands over the panel without pushing any buttons.

"I don't know, I haven't been able to find them all." Merlin raised his eyebrows.

"You haven't found them all?"

"I keep finding new ones every week. Let me tell you, the best find so far was the indoor swimming pool." Merlin didn't even bother asking.

"What do all of these buttons even do?"

"Oh, loads of things. This one plays soothing music." The Doctor pressed a little green button on the other side of the console, and soft orchestral music began to play. "Granted, I get all the stations, but I like the classic stuff the best. Even helped write some of it." He said this with a hint of pride, straightening his bow tie.

"All, right what about…this one?"

"NO, DON'T TOUCH THAT ONE!" Merlin touched that one. They heard a muffled explosion outside that rocked the TARDIS, knocking Merlin and the Doctor to their feet. The Doctor glared at Merlin.

"When I say don't touch it, don't touch it." Merlin stood and brushed off his jacket, trying to maintain some of his dignity. The Doctor, however hurried outside to assess the damage. Merlin soon joined him, praying that whatever had been shot hadn't landed on his house; after all, he had spent years perfecting the view out the window. What else was he supposed to do with an immortal existence and a heckton of free time?

They exited the TARDIS to find a gigantic dent in the ground, a few yards from the first lilac tree. It had obliterated quite a few daisies, though. They wordlessly stared at it for a moment before hearing sirens in the distance.

"We'd better go." The Doctor hastened back to the TARDIS, Merlin close behind. "And don't touch the console!"

"I won't touch the console."

"Unless I'm injured or dying. Then you may touch the console." The Doctor pushed buttons and pulled levers, toggled knobs and flipped switches. The generator in the middle began to pulsate, throwing a soft, undulating glow over everything. The sirens faded into the distance, and soon, the only sounds were their labored breathing and the wheezing of the TARDIS.

"So where would you like to go?" asked the Doctor after letting go of the controls.

"Pardon?"

"If you could go anywhere in the universe, where would you go?"

"Well, I've never seen the universe before, have I?"

"Well, what have you dreamed about seeing, with what little knowledge you have?"

"That was low, but I've always wanted to zoom out a little and see the multiverse for myself. Nothing on Earth boggles me anymore, and I'm sure the size of it all would prove to be quite a rush for me." Merlin had daydreamed about it often, standing at his gazebo and watching the constellations swirl across the surface of the lake, seeming to make a portal to another world, somewhere where there was more to him than grief and patience.

"Well, I'll have to zoom out more than a little, but nevertheless, the zooming out shall be done." He set the coordinates in a screen surrounded by post-it notes on which circular symbols were inscribed. The coordinates were entered in the same strange dialect. Merlin held onto the railing in anticipation as the TARDIS rocketed millions of miles a second. The deck shuddered beneath them as light years passed them by. After a few minutes of this tumult, the TARDIS slowed it course, and began to float peacefully. Merlin looked at the Doctor, his heart starting to race.

"What now?" he asked, nearly shaking with excitement.

"You open the doors," answered the Doctor. Merlin was more than happy to comply. He rested his hands on the handles, preparing himself for what he was about to see. But when he opened the doors, he realized that no amount of preparation could lessen the impact of the sight before him.

Endless black was laid out before him, a blank tapestry lusting after color. And color complied in the most beautiful way. A tapestry woven from stars, so masterfully crafted, it would make any artisan weep. The colors within this vast work of art were as tangled as emotion, and were almost as beautiful. Jewels created the borderline for this living color, winking shyly from behind the magnificent display.

"It's so… big," whispered Merlin, nearly leaning out of the TARDIS.

"It gets bigger, I can tell tell you that." Merlin simply could not comprehend such a prospect, but accepted it nonetheless. And there they stayed, watching the colors swirl and bleed into each other, making color anew. Merlin stared unblinkingly for what seemed like days, though he could have easily stayed there for centuries. But he knew there was more to see than this one piece of exquisite artistry. He wrenched his eyes away to see the Doctor contemplating him, his head tilted slightly to the side.

"What?"

"I was just wondering, since you've got this magic thing, could you bring someone back from the dead?" The Doctor's eyes bored into him, something like desperation in them.

"Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." Merlin highly doubted that, but he found no harm in telling him.

"Logic points to yes, and I've even tried, but it just didn't seem to work," Merlin explained, standing. "So, I'll have to say that it's either impossible, or difficult on an astronomical scale. I'm thinking it would require a staggering amount of magic, for even I couldn't succeed at it." The Doctor nodded slowly.

"Could I see some magic?" he asked suddenly. "I would like to scan it and see if there's a logical explanation for your ability to manipulate matter and forces of nature with nothing but muttered words, because to me, it just doesn't make sense."

"Er… all right. What kind of magic?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there are many realms of magic--"

"All right, all right, enough with the long-winded explanations. Just something small will do." Merlin nodded, thought for a moment, then reached his hands out in front of him, clasping them together.

"Gewyrcan lif," he whispered, then separated his hands. A little, luminescent butterfly flitted out, and floated up to the upper rafters of the TARDIS, where it landed and rested, gracefully fluttering it's blue wings. The Doctor looked incredulously at him.

"A butterfly?"

"Er...yes?"

"You could have done anything you wanted, and you chose to make a butterfly?"

"Oi, you said something small, and I did something small. Sue me." The Doctor laughed.

"How are we going to get it to come down here?" asked the Doctor, looking up at the butterfly.

"We call it, genius," Merlin answered, and stretched forth his fingers once more. "Wiðbregdan wiðtêon me, fîfalde." His eyes burned as the butterfly complied, spiraling down to rest on the Doctor's outstretched finger.

"He needs a name," the Doctor decided, heading toward a door at the back of the TARDIS. He unbolted it and stepped inside, fixated on the butterfly. Inside was a myriad of scientific instruments, some of them quite fatal-looking. Merlin stepped warily inside, eyeing the sharp objects.

"A name? It's a butterfly." Merlin watched as the Doctor weaved through the delicate tools, nearly knocking over many of them. The butterfly, however, stayed obediently on his finger, despite almost running into glass tubes and needles.

"Of course he needs a name! He deserves one, being something so magnificent." The Doctor smiled as the butterfly flapped its wings in recognition of the compliment.

"Well, thanks," Merlin muttered as the Doctor siphoned the butterfly off of his finger and onto a table towards the back of the room.

The Doctor bent down so he was eye level with the butterfly, and stared avidly at the it's twitching antenna and shimmering wings for quite some time before saying, "Gilbert."

"I'm sorry?"

"Gilbert shall be his name," answered the Doctor, straightening. Merlin could not think of a less majestic name for a magical creature, but the Doctor seemed pleased, so he said nothing of it. The Doctor hurried about, gathering instruments and setting them on the table next to the immobile butterfly.

Firstly, he selected a rather large magnifying glass, and aimed it at the butterfly. His magnified, pale green iris seemed gargantuan next to the small creature. After gazing at it from various angles for a number of minutes, he unearthed a notepad from a mountain of clutter, and jotted down notes in the indecipherable circular dialect.

"It's wings aren't made out of scales."

"What?"

"Normal butterflies' wings are made out of thousands of tiny scales. This one's wings are all….misty." The Doctor looked utterly perplexed by the predicament. He continued his study. He poked it gently with various instruments and grievously apologized when he tried poking various chemicals that steamed at it, but the butterfly seemed impervious to everything. It elicited next to no reaction, other than shuffling its wings around a bit.

The Doctor's eyebrows grew closer and closer together as the experiment progressed. Eventually, when the Doctor had exhausted the harmless substances, he started dropping acid, lighting it on fire, but nothing seemed to bother it. The acid simply slipped off and eroded the table, much to the Doctor's displeasure (there was a lot of cursing), and the fire burned bright for less than a second before all at once, extinguishing. And all the while, Gilbert sat, and Merlin thought he could detect amusement from him at the Doctor's efforts.

After nigh on 20 minutes, the Doctor sat, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

"I can't explain it," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "I need to find out what he's made of."

"Then, why haven't you already? You've been examining this butterfly for as long as I've been alive." Merlin had never seen someone so obsessed over something, even the workaholics he went to school with.

"Because it might kill Gilbert." There was so much horror on his face, his eyes darkening, yet Merlin could not fathom why.

"So? I can just make a new one." The Doctor glared at him so intensely Merlin almost recoiled. Why was the Doctor acting like this? About a butterfly?

"But he's innocent. So I won't try."

"Mate, it's a butterfly, an insect. And plus, you just poured acid on it, like, four seconds ago."

"For science," the Doctor mumbled defensively.

"And finding out what he's made of is obviously going to obsess you for weeks, so why not do it now? This is 'for science' too. Geez." Merlin sat in a chair, and watched the Doctor's face scrunch up as he fought an internal battle. "And plus, I'm a little curious myself." The Doctor looked up, startled.

"You mean you never found out anything about your magic?" Merlin chuckled.

"What haven't I done over the course of my life? Yes, I have tried, but firstly, no one on Earth believes in magic anymore, and secondly, all the old texts I've researched haven't mentioned anything about the origins or the very make of magic. Maybe your findings will provide all of the answers to those questions." The Doctor nodded slowly, then stood up, retrieving Gilbert. The traversed through the maze of deadly instruments to the main room. There, the Doctor set Gilbert upon a small platform that he pulled out from a console. He tapped a few buttons and entered some numbers, causing a dangerous-looking lazer ray of death to descend from the ceiling. But true to character, Gilbert stayed exactly where he was, standing as proud as a butterfly could.

The Doctor directed the ray at Gilbert, then, looking a bit nervous, slammed his hand dramatically upon a conspicuously large button. A beam of white light penetrated the bated silence that had dropped along with the lazer. The light lasted less than a second, diminishing into a faded blue glow behind Merlin's retinas. Merlin blinked this away to see Gilbert vibrating slightly. Both he and the Doctor watched him nervously until the tremors subsided, and Gilbert was just as calm and collected as before.

"Huh," the Doctor mused, scrutinizing Gilbert once more. "Things usually die when I point that at them." He shrugged unconcernedly, then scampered to the screen to read the results. He stared at the screen with the light of the sun in his eyes as he did the excited bouncing he enacted when excitement took hold. Eventually, after what seemed like years, a beep resounded throughout the TARDIS, and a little blip containing the data appeared.

As the Doctor read through the results, all in the strange circular language, the look on his face became more and more confused. It got to a point that the confusion turned into something like horror.

"Well? What is it?" asked Merlin impatiently, his voice rising along with his anxiety. The Doctor slowly looked up. "It it bad? What's it made of?"

"It's….not made…of….anything," the Doctor breathed, his eyes far away. Merlin tilted his head slightly, perplexed. Of course it had to be made of something.

"That's not possible."

"Honest! It's not recorded on any database from any planet! Not even from the future." The Doctor seemed distraught at this information, but Merlin could not locate the source of his panic. The Doctor began to pace, going faster and faster as he attempted to keep up with his thoughts.

"All right, new substance, then," Merlin surmised, thinking that a scientific mind like the Doctor would be over the moon at the prospect.

"No, you don't understand." The Doctor ran a hand through his already unruly hair. "Every substance is made up of the same basic things, different combinations. There are infinite ways to combine these things, and I believe that we're not even close to discovering every combination out there, but this? Gilbert? He's not made of any of that stuff. He's a life form and he doesn't have a carbon cycle." Merlin admitted that this was quite strange, but the Doctor seemed completely out of his mind.

"He's made of magic then."

"Yes, but what is magic made out of?"

"...Magic?"

"As in what are the fundamentals of magic? Everything is made up of atoms, molecules, but not necessarily different ones."

"And?"

"And? And MAGIC DOESN'T HAVE ATOMS!" The Doctor was waving his hands about at this point, and his voice had risen to a shout. The man was having a nerdy scientist meltdown, and after quite some time, he collapsed into a chair and started reciting molecular formulas and atomic numbers to assure himself that the world was real. Merlin stared at him, completely nonplussed, before the Doctor looked up with that calculating look in his eyes.

It was then that the Doctor stood up, pushed a button, and a blackboard descended out of nowhere. He began scrawling all over it with a piece of chalk, muttering about magic interacting with atoms through its non-atomic properties, and began to write equations representing the amount of power needed for each spell, how the spell interacted with the forces of nature, and so on. Soon, he had covered the board with markings that made next to no sense to Merlin.

The Doctor stood back and admired his handiwork, before taking up an eraser and erasing it all. Then, using one of the formulas he concocted, began to write a new equation, this one long and complex, one that required much head-scratching and deranged muttering. After about five minutes, the Doctor circled the solution, a miniscule number on the right, bottom corner of the board, letting out a peal of laughter.

"What was all that?" Merlin asked, slightly concerned. The Doctor turned to him, that wide smile of his stretching a mile long.

"I know how much power you need to bring someone back from the dead."


	4. Chapter 4

The Doctor had no idea if his theory would work; after all, he wasn't perfect in his knowledge of magic. He had only learned of it the day before. But he was excited at the prospect of being able to bring people back from the dead, even if it may disrupt the "natural order" of things. In his mind, there wasn't a set "natural order". Nature evolved, and those evolutions expanded its horizons. This was just another step in the evolution of the universe.

Merlin, however, didn't look as sure as the Doctor felt.

"I dunno, Doctor, I mean, people die for a reason, don't they?"

"Maybe, but maybe this knowledge and magic was bestowed to us for a reason, eh? Ever considered that?" Merlin just stared at him. "Maybe you were born with magic as a part of your very being for a reason, and maybe this is part of the reason."

"Maybe, but Kilgharrah said that Arthur would rise again when Albion's need is greatest. That is set in stone, as it was told as prophecy among the practitioners of the Old Religion pretty much since the beginning of time itself. I don't think we should interfere." Merlin sighed, putting his face in his hands. "Arthur is going to get a second chance at life, and that appears to be the will of a higher power. That higher power hasn't granted anyone else second life, so maybe their deaths were for the greater good." The Doctor thought on his words, almost convinced, but his excitement at his discovery refused to abate. He dissected every word of the prophecy Merlin recited to him, trying to riddle out how this new knowledge factored into it.

Then, it dawned on him.

"Maybe Arthur gets a second chance through you," the Doctor exclaimed. Merlin gave him that confused look that had become all too common along their short time together. "I mean, maybe this knowledge was given to us at this time by this so called 'higher power'," the Doctor drew air quotes around the phrase, "because you are Arthur's chance. Maybe you are meant to raise him from the dead, maybe something's about to happen." The Doctor gazed beseechingly at Merlin. "Please, let's just try."

Merlin thought for a moment, his blue eyes dark and stormy as he considered the proposal. He fiddled with the edge of his jacket, ran his hands across his face, combed through his hair with his fingers. Then, he became still as he looked to the Doctor, a fiery determination in his eyes.

"All right," he acquiesced, straightening his posture, "We'll try." The Doctor grinned.

"Brilliant."

"How are we going to do it?" Merlin inquired, as the Doctor scrambled haphazardly about the TARDIS, punching in coordinates and pulling levers as he prepared to take them back to the Lake of Avalon.

"Well, I'm sure it will be exhausting. For you." Merlin rolled his eyes. "But, we'll be hooking you up to the TARDIS core, which holds an infinite amount of power, which you can draw upon as you please. Incant the spelly thing, and bam, dead friend not dead anymore." Merlin nodded, staring at his hands. The Doctor tried to sound sure of the theory, for Merlin's sake, but in truth, he had no idea what it would do to him. He felt guilty for using him in this way, and, he had to admit, it was partially selfish. If he could do something like this, have it work, he could fix so many lives he had ruined. He could restore Gallifrey, he could reunite families, he could repair his conscience, little by little. He wouldn't have to live in this mental pit any longer, this endless darkness that just kept getting darker.

He shook such thoughts from his mind as he pulled the final lever. The TARDIS whirred and wheezed, and began to hurtle back to Earth. Before too long, Merlin and the Doctor felt the TARDIS land with a gentle thump, and the sound of people chattering outside the doors. Merlin and the Doctor exchanged perplexed glances: no one but Merlin seemed to visit the Lake of Avalon, and it sounded like a crowd made up of hundreds milled around outside.

The Doctor approached the door first, and rested a hand on the knob, looking back at Merlin. Merlin nodded his assent, and the Doctor pushed the door open to meet a solid brick wall. The Doctor scraped off a crumbling bit onto his finger, and promptly licked it. He tasted ancient mortar, and brick directly made from stone bits mined from a 1500's quarry.

He went back to his controls, ignoring the disgusted look on Merlin's face, and turned the TARDIS around. When he opened the doors once more, they saw they were in an alley leading off from a market square. Laughter sounded, coins jingled, and conversation permeated the air. Merlin turned to the Doctor.

"You missed." The Doctor glared at Merlin, and stepped out of the TARDIS,

"I did not miss," the Doctor sniffed. "They make excellent raisin bread in the 1500's and I haven't had lunch yet. I'm exactly where I want to be." That was a complete lie, of course, but the raisin bread was excellent. He dug around in his coat pockets until he unearthed a silver and two coppers. That should be enough to buy him one loaf.

He set off, Merlin close behind, seeking out the raisin bread stand that was always so popular in markets such as this. They found themselves meandering, idly looking at the goods on sale, and chatting with some interesting people. Yes, people did actually speak the way they did in Romeo and Juliet, eloquent and thorough. Merlin seemed to make it a point to talk to everyone they came across. He asked them about their lives, about the wares they were selling.

"Why are you talking to everyone?" the Doctor asked, after Merlin finished laughing at a joke from the local tavern keeper.

"I was in Africa, for some time off, you know. I was sorely bored of sitting by that lake and needed a break. I want to learn what I can while I'm here." The Doctor nodded. After about 10 minutes of wandering, they smelled raisin bread on the air, and hurried toward it. When they arrived at the stand, they found a lengthy line waiting for them, and they grudgingly took their place at the end of it. The longer they stood there, the more confused and bewildered looks they received.

"Curses! We forgot to change," the Doctor growled. Merlin looked down at his apparel, embarrassed. Eventually, he took off his leather jacket, for he was receiving nasty looks from the poorer members of the population. He attempted to tie it around his waist, when someone came up behind him and snatched it away. They both whirled about to see a woman standing there, inspecting the jacket, running her fingers over the zipper and toying with the clasps on the pockets.

She was rather pretty, with fiery red hair and ice blue eyes that sparkled as the looked up through her long eyelashes at Merlin.

"'Tis a rather fine garment thou hast found thyself in possession of, my good sir," she observed, staring at Merlin. Merlin looked like a deer in headlights, and the Doctor attempted to control himself before he busted out laughing.

"Indeed, m-my lady," stuttered Merlin, twisting his fingers around the hem of his shirt.

"It compliments thee amazingly well, though thou wouldst be comely still, even when wrapped in rags, and the sky weeps, leaving droplets upon thy lashes and shimmering upon thy head, even then would you be fruit unto mine eyes." Merlin seemed completely taken aback by the Shakespearean flirting, completely struck dumb, his mouth hanging open, hands reaching toward his jacket, which was still in the girl's hands. The Doctor could not help snorting at the fear in his eyes. Merlin glared at him, and he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his mirth.

"Th-thy compliments are much appreciated miss," Merlin finally forced out, struggling over the elaborate speech. "But my heart belongs to another, and if I were to respond in kind, I would be soiling her honor as well as mine." The girl's eyes widened in shame, and she shyly handed Merlin his jacket.

"My apologies, sir," she mumbled.

"Your apology is accepted," Merlin said, zipping up his jacket. "But do not be ashamed. I am sure you will make a man very happy someday." The girl smiled appreciatively, and hurried away. It was when Merlin sagged in relief that the Doctor let out a great howl of laughter, slapping him on the shoulder.

"That was beautiful," he gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. "You could have fried an egg on your face, mate."

"Shut up."

Before too long, they reached the front of the line, the Doctor paid for the bread, and they were breaking off pieces as they headed back to the TARDIS. Merlin kept his eyes fixed on the ground, as if he were hoping not to attract any more attention, so the Doctor just spoke to the back of his head. This was all well and good, but then Merlin stopped suddenly in a small courtyard, causing the Doctor to slam into him.

"Oi, watch it! A little forewarning before you slam on the breaks would be nice." Merlin pointed to the rim of the courtyard, where what looked like a palace guard had a young boy by the shirt. The boy looked to be about 12, with shaggy brown hair, and filthy clothing that hung off his gaunt frame. In his hands, he clutched a single bright red apple, which was ripped from him by the guard. The guard tossed the boy to the ground, and his cry of pain could be heard from their position.

The Doctor felt anger rising within him as the guard kicked the boy aside, and yelled at him to be gone. He clenched his fists as the guard smacked the boy across the face when the boy started to beg. He looked to Merlin to gauge his reaction, and his own anger gave way to fear at the murderous rage displayed in him. Merlin looked to the Doctor, the Doctor nodded, and they strode as one across the square to where the guard stood over the cowering boy.

"Oi! You!" The Doctor called. The guard looked up, annoyance flashing across his features. "Yeah, the barmy in the chainmail!" Merlin and the Doctor drew closer until the Doctor could almost smell the reek coming off the man. Nevermind, he could smell it, and that alone almost dissuaded him from acting on his emotions. "If you're going to beat on children, the least you could do is wash up once in a while, because WHOO!" the Doctor fanned a hand in front of his nose. "You are just a walking, talking skunkweed." A small giggle escaped the boy from the floor, and the Doctor smiled as wide as he could and knelt on the ground next to him.

"Stand ye away from the thief!" yelled the guard suddenly, advancing upon the Doctor. He reeled away from the needle-like point of his épée, his vision tunneling onto the shining silver point. He scooted away frantically, but the guard followed.

"All right, all right! I am now a good ten feet away from your 'thief'. Could you please remove the metal stick?" the Doctor pleaded as his back slammed into a wall.

"That may be so, but thy grave insults cannot be pardoned," the guard pushed his weapon up under his chin, "accept with your death." Suddenly, a voice rang out, the Doctor's saving grace.

"Away, thou most notable coward, thou infinite and endless liar, thou hourly promise breaker, the owner of no one good quality!" Merlin was now shouting at the top of his lungs, startling the guard. The guard whirled about so quickly, his épée left a shallow, stinging cut in the Doctor's neck. He put a hand to the wound and looked about toward Merlin, who was glaring daggers at the guard, and whose hands were fisted by his sides.

"Such insolence! Dost thou wish for the cold hands of death to enclose thy throat?" the guard roared, stretching forth his weapon.

"Er… yes?" Merlin ventured. The Doctor sighed in incredulity, raising his eyebrows. Merlin shrugged at him.

"And so it shall be," the guard said, taking the proper dueling stance, holding his

épée vertically in front of his face, and spreading his legs until they were shoulder-width apart.

The Doctor nervously straightened his bowtie, eyes still on Merlin.

He didn't seem to have a weapon, nor did he seem afraid. Then again, why would he be? He could take this man apart with less than one blow. But discretion was key to surviving in a different time. If he used magic here, then the knowledge of such power would create massive ripples in the time-space continuum, obsessing people that shouldn't be obsessed, and creating new, twisted pathways through the minds of men. The Doctor tried to convey this by shaking his head vigorously, and Merlin nodded in return.

Instead, he did something the Doctor never saw coming.

He put a hand inside of this leather jacket, and slowly drew out a medieval sword twice

the length of his arm. There was a blue gem set into the pommel, and the pommel itself seemed to be made of what looked like bronze, yet the blade gleamed like sunlight, throwing rays of light off of its razor edges. The guard's épée looked like a toothpick compared to the weapon of war Merlin held.

Merlin imitated the guard's dueling stance, and smiled at the fear painted across his face. The guard refused to back down, however, gripping his épée so tightly, it whitened his knuckles. He made the first move, darting at Merlin with the speed and grace of years of military training, raising his weapon as he went. Merlin stood his ground, a steely glint in his eye as he advanced on him. He easily blocked the guard's blow, and stepped out of his path, causing him to stumble over himself.

He got to his feet quickly, and managed to regain his footing, but by this time, Merlin had the upper hand. He hounded mercilessly upon the cowering soldier, exchanging blow after blow, sometimes slicing at his head, others by his knees, moving so gracefully, it almost seemed more like a dance than a duel.

It was the most amazing display of swordsmanship the Doctor had ever seen, and he had warred with many a species for earth, some of which had been wielding blades since the beginning of their lives.

Merlin ducked under the guard's blade, at the same time swiping his foot under the guard's legs, causing him to buckle. He swung his épée limply when on his knees, and Merlin deflected the blow, snapping the weapon in half, kicking away the point, and planting his foot into the guard's chest. Merlin pushed the point of his sword to his throat, eliciting a gasp of horror. He held it there for a moment to make clear his point, then backed away, speared the apple that had fallen to the ground, and took it in his hands. He gave the fruit to the little boy, who was still on the ground. He stared at Merlin, wonder in his wide eyes, then got to his feet and took off running, probably to spread the word about what had transpired.

The Doctor stared at Merlin for a moment, processing what had happened. He wasn't done doing so when shouts began to rise from the market square, so he filed it away for later contemplation.

"We'd better go," the Doctor said, resting a hand on Merlin's shoulder. "If we stay, they'll either try and make you king or, you know, kill you." Merlin nodded, replacing the sword inside of his jacket. Apparently, Merlin had a TARDIS-like leather jacket, and he started thinking up diagrams and equations, but stuffed it away as he and Merlin made for the TARDIS.

*A thin sword, think The Princess Bride


	5. Chapter 5

Merlin stumbled into the TARDIS, slightly worn out by the workout he had received. He had never expected to get into a sword fight again, but was grateful he had been practicing with the immense amount of spare time he possessed. That guard had been trained well, but was a novice when it came to open combat, where you had to improvise to survive.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" the Doctor asked incredulously as they entered into the confines of the control room. Gilbert fluttered down to meet them, perching upon the Doctor's shoulder.

"I hung around King Arthur himself for fifteen years," answered Merlin as he stretched his arms out, "and he was famed for being the best warrior in all of Albion. I was bound to pick some things up, despite how uncoordinated I was in my youth. And plus, remember. Two thousand years. Enough free time to fill up three lifetimes." The Doctor nodded.

"And your pockets?"

"Magic."

"Ah, of course. Is it like my TARDIS? You know, does it work the same?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, are they bigger on the inside, or…?"

"No, little naked fairy people live inside them and disassemble things to the molecular level, then reassemble them again when I need them." Merlin twisted his back, eliciting a few satisfying pops from his spine. The Doctor looked utterly bewildered at Merlin's statement. "I'm joking, turniphead."

"Your sense of humor is very strange," the Doctor remarked.

"Thanks," Merlin intoned sarcastically.

"It's all right. Nothing but a work in progress," the Doctor reassured, pulling controls. "But we have to get back to your present time to test this bringing people back from the dead thing."

"All right, get on with it, then."

The Doctor nodded, pulled a final lever, and the TARDIS was off yet again, hopefully to the right location this time around. They whirld chaotically for a few minutes, before touching down with something sounding like a splash. Wind whistled through the crack in the doors, bringing a fresh, cool scent mixed with flowers with it.

"I think we're in the right place," the Doctor thought aloud, pushing open the doors. They both peered through, and to their relief, the Doctor hit his target with precision. The weather outside was similar, rather gloomy and cold, and the same departing sparrows chirped in the trees. Melin and the Doctor looked to each other, determination evident in both of them.

Merlin hoped very much to have Arthur back, no matter the means, and if this thing worked, he could bring anyone back from the dead. Anyone at all. The implications of that were enormous, and the very thought of it sent his heart pounding rapidly.

"All right, just to be clear, have you done this before?" the Doctor asked as he reviewed his equations.

"Er, I've tried," murmerered Merlin.

"What? With who?"

"A woman that meant a great deal to me," answered Merlin, a bit louder.

"What? Freya?" Merlin nodded. The Doctor sighed. "Let me guess, it didn't work." Merlin nodded once more. "That's all right. We know, more or less, how to do it now. If this works, you can bring her back for sure this time." Merlin remained mute. The Doctor clapped him on the shoulder, and read over his equations once more.

"So how are we going to do this?" Merlin asked, in an effort to break the tensions he unwittingly placed into the situation.

"All right, so I trust you have a spell in mind," the Doctor waited for Merlin's affirmation, "so, I'm going to hook up the TARDIS core to you," the Doctor winced as he took up a needle, "let me say, it's not going to be a walk in the park." Merlin eyed the thing, which was almost six inches long, and swallowed the knot that began to form in his throat.

"What're you talking about?" he laughed weakly, "this'll be fun." The Doctor looked at the needle, then back at Merlin.

"You should be fine," he decided. "Well, anyway, I'm going to hook up the TARDIS, then you just, you know, do your thing." The Doctor gestured toward his eyes. "The power will be relayed directly into your nervous system, so you should be able to draw upon it easily. It might supercharge your abilities for a short time, though."

"Like one of those power-ups in a Mario game?" Merlin asked, thinking about the endless games he was challenged to by his younger patients.

"Oh, brilliant games, those ones. I spent hours on this one level--"

"Doctor. If you would please concentrate," Merlin reprimanded.

"Of course, sorry, but yes. Exactly like that." Merlin nodded, eyes still glued to the needle.

"Sorry, but where exactly are you going to stick that?" Merlin asked nervously.

"Oh, just up your arm, nowhere dangerous." The Doctor tried for a reassuring tone, but Merlin's anxiety refused to abate. He was reminded of the countless times he was charged with administering flu shots to patients. Most people screamed their heads off, or winced in extreme pain, and that needle barely cleared two inches. The Doctor gestured toward a chair, in which Merlin sat, while he connected the needle to something in the nether regions of the TARDIS. After a few moments of metal clanging and steam hissing, the Doctor popped up from underneath, soot smeared across his nose.

"If you would please," the Doctor pressed, nodding at his arm. Merlin took in a breath, then stretched it forward. The needle was glowing slightly now, with the orangish energy that the TARDIS. The Doctor met Merlin's fearful gaze, nodded once, then pushed the needle into his arm. The pain from the needle was immediate, but worsened as it plunged deeper into his arm. When the base of the needle met the skin of his arm, the Doctor flipped a switch on the console, and energy began to whisper up the wires, and directly into Merlin. The energy burned, and Merlin squeezed his eye shut, clenching his teeth as the white-hot energy traveled throughout his body. His veins lit up with orange and white, and continued to course through him with every beat of his heart. Before Merlin could take no more, the pain reached a peak, and stayed. His body was now channeling the energy, transferring it from the needle, through his body, back through the needle, and into the TARDIS.

Merlin let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and stood. The energy smarted a bit, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He met the Doctor's concerned stare, and nodded reassurance. He made his way slowly out the door, and onto the banks of the lake. A cold breeze greeted him, soothing his burning body, and bringing back his focus. As he stared out at that spire he had gazed at for years on end, he reflected on what he was about to do. A bit of unease began in his stomach as he considered the implications, the amount of energy it would take to bring just one soul back from whatever was beyond this mortal existence, and he faltered. But what here did he have to lose, he wondered. What would possible miss him if this went awry?

This thought steeled his determination as he raised his hand out over the water and began his incantation.

"Hlystan me, unlifiende feorhhord, bera stellan me. ymbhwyrf hrædlic innan bêga sweltendlic môdgemynd. twihynde æfterlic wyrd yfel cweðan êower, weargbræde ôðer hlîet êow rif. steppan stælan tôhwon, ðêos sweltendlic folde, lôca in ræfnan swilce fæge fey," he intoned, and the entire lake began to steam, "eftsîð âîeðan sê sêað ongenæman hwanon êow fell, climban siððon inne dôð besengan. attraction with pron ðe ic healsian êow, dêadlic ferhð, underfôn ðætte ôðer wif, by reason of fullfremman unfyrn," his voice rose to a shout as a whirlpool formed out in the center of the lake, "bæclinga! bæc! hinderling ongeniman duguð ðêostorfulnes, ðanon unnan an ðone as cealdnes," he spread his arms wide as his body, his eyes, and the water burned as one, "stîgan ongenæman sê lêgelêoht! wuton of wîtan lungre æthebban ðêos morðor ðanc! stîgan settan duguð worulddêad attraction with pron ðe ic cirman êow!"

A mighty roar had started in the middle of the churning water, and that was all there was before a wave of things emerged. It was all a blur of darkness, but Merlin could pick out evil eyes, menacing fangs, foreboding claws. Unearthly shrieks rose as living shadows swirled out of the center, striking terror in its purest form into Merlin's very soul. He gazed up at the mass of evil, completely paralyzed, tears blurring the horrifying shapes as he realized he had condemned the people of this town to a death at the hands of forces belonging in the past. Creatures of such wicked dispositions, that they had been cast out of existence by the earth itself. Creatures that Merlin himself fought in his youth. Now returned.

"What have I done?" he whispered, and fell to his knees as darkness of hell consumed his vision, and his soul


	6. Chapter 6

The world changed in a second. The sun sputtered out, screams rent the peaceful afternoon in a second. How could that happen? And so quickly? One moment, they were bringing back a long-lost friend, the next, they condemned many others to a fate unknown.

Merlin's tears hissed with energy as they spattered on the rocks, boiled as they were whisked away by the gentle tide of the lake, as he tried to comprehend that damage he had done. Haphazard thoughts chased each other around his brain in time to the cadence of his spell, but all thought faded into panic as the light of day was completely swallowed up, and the sounds of people screaming and the smell of impending death was all there was.

He started and let out a strangled cry as a hand grasped his upper arm.

"Oi! Watch the face, mate!" yelled the Doctor, hoisting Merlin to his feet. If Merlin squinted, he could make out the glint of the Doctor's green eyes, as they stared at him in crazed confusion. They stood there for a beat of time, feeling the weight of the world on their shoulders. Then, the Doctor started to yank Merlin toward the TARDIS.

"What are you doing?!" screamed Merlin, trying to resist the Doctor's iron grasp. "We have to help them!" He gestured wildly toward the town, where screams and panicked calls were carried to them by an angry wind.

"We need to get out of here, figure out what's going on! We can't help them if we don't know what we're helping with!" Merlin ignored the Doctor's reason, and continued to strain toward the village. "Oh, for goodness sake," the Doctor sighed, and let go of Merlin. He tore towards the town, but before he could get far, he heard a strange whirring noise inside his head, he felt his knees buckle, and his face hit the rocky lake bed. He lay there for a moment, and he supposed the world would look blurry if he could see it. He heard the Doctor's approaching footsteps just before he collapsed to the sound of his fluttering heartbeat.

The first thing Merlin heard when he woke up was the gentle purring of the TARDIS on standby. He groaned as a dull ringing buzzed to life inside his head, accompanied by a skull-splitting headache. He cracked his eyes open to see that he was laid haphazardly on a small cot in the TARDIS control room, with the Doctor worrying over the controls, muttering to himself once again.

He looked up when he heard Merlin groan, and was by his side in a second.

"You alright, mate?" he asked softly, and his words reverberated painfully inside his head.

"What's it look like?" Merlin rasped, laboriously sitting up. He put his face in his hands and closed his eyes as a renewed wave of pain overtook him. As he stared at the colors swirling across his vision, the ringing morphed into the screams of terrified people. His eyes flew open as he recalled the events of that day, and looked about at the calm interior of the TARDIS.

"Where are we?" he asked, fighting back the horror that threatened to engulf him.

"The middle of space," the Doctor answered.

"And why are we here?"

"I thought that would be obvious."

"Obviou--"

"Shh!" The Doctor clamped a hand over his mouth. Merlin glared daggers at him until the hand was removed, and when it was he prepared to yell until his voice was gone. But before he could say anything, the Doctor intervened. "All I meant was, there was a wave of the most evil beings in creation tearing towards us, and that we ought to get out of its way."

"And what about the people? What about, I don't know, the entire world?"

"Listen--"

"No! After what you did--"

"What I did? I would have worked if you had worded the spell differently!"

"What do you know about magic?! You found out about magic yesterday."

"Well, I know myself, and this entire evil thing is against my nature." Merlin froze then, incredulous and hurt.

"And you're saying it's not against mine?" The Doctor's eyes widened, and he opened his mouth, probably to apologize, but Merlin cut him off. "Right. Arguing is getting us nowhere. I still think we should go back and help those people to the best of our ability." The Doctor closed his mouth, and looked down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs. "Well?" Merlin asked expectantly. "Turn us around."

"I can't."

"What do you mean, 'I can't'?"

The Doctor looked up at Merlin, anxiety coloring his features.

"I don't know where we are." Merlin stared at the Doctor, uncomprehending. How could they be lost? The Doctor had been through his paces when it came to navigating the universe: he was no novice. Merlin could see star charts and maps depicting planets he never knew existed, computer systems developed for the express purpose of exploring, and copious notes dedicated to the exact position of every planet ever discovered, present and future, down to the last second of the earthly year. So, Merlin wondered, how exactly could they be lost?

Merlin asked the Doctor this very question, to which he answered, "After you released the -ahem- things, I pulled you into the TARDIS, the full force of the wave hit, and as we were taking off, it blew us off course."

"Well, where do you think we are?"

"I told you-"

"But you must have a hypothesis." The Doctor sighed, and got tiredly to his feet. He trudged over to the TARDIS doors, and threw them open. Merlin was expecting the fabulous array of galaxies and lone stars, but instead, he saw only a vacant darkness.

"I don't think we're technically anywhere," the Doctor muttered, a slight tremble in his voice. It seemed as though a fist of ice had closed itself around Merlin's stomach as he spoke.

"Are we dead?" He had never even considered being dead, he just assumed he never would. He had never been afraid of it, and some of the time he wished it would come and take him in the night, but now, as the possibility loomed before him, it scared him. Scared him more than anything ever had.

"No, you numpty, would you have a concussion if you were dead?" the Doctor snapped. The ice in his gut melted a little, but wasn't completely thawed.

"Don't patronize me, it was a natural assumption," he sniffed back.

"No, we're not dead, but I think we're in The Empty. It's--"

"The Empty? What is it?"

"Well, if you would let me finish, I might tell you."

"Sorry. Of course. Just nervous. Continue," Merlin stuttered. The Doctor stared quizzically at him for a moment, before looking back out at the darkness.

"I don't even know if is is The Empty, I mean, it was just a myth among Timelords and humans alike. At least, maybe it was fact. I don't know. But according to mythology from many different time periods, religions, and dynasties, from both planets, it's the ultimate Hell. The Hell for demons, and twisted creatures of the dark. Instead of the stereotypical Hell, where damned earthly souls go, with torture and screaming and all that good stuff, this is just wandering aimlessly through nothing for the rest of eternity. No nourishment, no refuge, no anything to look forward to. This is where monsters go, the ones too evil for Hell to contain. They go insane, lost in their own bloodlust and lack of all things that make them what they are. This, this, is for the damned demons. The damned angels. The ultimate end to everything."


	7. Chapter 7

The Doctor had never thought he would see The Empty; he had never even entertained the possibility that it was real. He read endless books about it in his youth, for in his early years, it held a morbid fascination for him. Stories swirled about in his head at night, keeping him up for hours as he imagined what it would be like inside the bowels of The Empty. Nothing existed here, yet everything was destined for it in the end. Maybe there was a Heaven, or a Hell, but The Empty was the finality to all things. At least, that's what ancient scholars said.

But as he stared into the potent darkness outside his door, the fascination he felt for it morphed into a complete and unadulterated terror. Time was fluid here, completely subjective, so a million years could pass here, but a millisecond could pass in the solid universe just out of reach. The Empty had no place, it just was.

So who knew how long he and Merlin would be stuck there? No one alive knew how to get them out: after all, nothing in the history of the universe had ever escaped. Merlin was looking at him now with a mixture of fear and shock. At this expression, an instant regret took the Doctor over. How could he have let this happen? Maybe something had gone wrong in his calculations? No, he was sure he had calculated everything to the last minute detail. But then again, as Merlin said, he knew next to nothing about magic.

As if sensing his distress, Gilbert fluttered from his new place in the rafters, and onto the Doctor's shoulder. He gently stroked the butterfly's wings as he thought, Merlin's incantations resounding in his head like a song. He felt the supple scales of the butterfly's wings caress his fingers, and an explanation came to him.

"How did you word your spell?" asked the Doctor suddenly. Merlin shook himself out of his daze.

"Excuse me?" he asked, somewhat bitterly. He was probably still thinking about the Doctor's indirect insult from before. Yet another thing he had to apologize for.

"I mean, what words in the ancient language did you use for your incantation?" Merlin thought for a moment, contemplating the events of before. He looked relieved to be doing something other than wallow.

"Well, the ancient language doesn't translate directly into English, but what I basically said was, bring back what was lost, you know? Bring back from death." Merlin answered. The doctor nodded, a realization forming in his mind.

"But were you specific?" he asked. Merlin's eyes widened.

"Holy--"

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. See, you were all supercharged with the energy from the TARDIS, so you opened The Empty. All the monsters in there saw the light after so long, and all just sorta rushed at it at once. The full force of the wave of monsters knocked the TARDIS back into the gap you kinda sorta ripped open. And so, here we are."

"So I unleashed basically every monster I ever killed onto the world?" Merlin asked forlornly.

"Well, yes," the Doctor began delicately. "But look on the bright side!"

"'The bright side? How could there possibly be a bright side to any of this?"

"Well, when we were hurled into The Empty, you were out cold, so you didn't close the gap behind you. That means there's a gap," the Doctor said excitedly. "A gap in The Empty. An Empty gap." Merlin's face lifted for a moment, but then hid behind a dark cloud again.

"And how long is it going to take to find it?" he asked, stubbornly trying to punish himself. He took the stance that a rebellious teenager might, slumped down in his chair, with his arms folded resolutely across his chest. "And by the way, how was I knocked out? Nothing got inside my head, right? A monster, I mean."

"Er… no. It was me. I used my sonic screwdriver to mess with your brain waves a little."

"Your sonic what?" The Doctor withdrew his screwdriver from inside his coat. It was a little silver instrument with a green tip that lit up with energy when unleashing sonic waves. In truth, it looked nothing like a stereotypical screwdriver. It didn't even manipulate wood. Merlin stared at it for a moment, then snickered.

"What?" the Doctor asked self-consciously, tucking the screwdriver away inside his coat.

"Of all the sonic devices you could possess, you chose a screwdriver?"

"I didn't choose it."

"What? It chose you?" Merlin laughed.

"No! When I broke the law and stole the TARDIS, it was the only object available to fight off the authorities! Despite popular belief, household appliances can make excellent weapons." The Doctor patted his pocket fondly to illustrate his point. "I managed to completely hijack your brain waves with it, didn't I?"

Merlin was snickering more than ever, now, completely unabashed by the Doctor's offense. The Doctor turned his nose up at him, and set about wiggling toggles on the dashboard.

"Well, instead of laughing at my completely useful choice of defence, I suggest you make yourself useful," he said, booting up the navigation and mapping systems.

"What can I do?" Merlin asked eagerly, jumping to his feet. He didn't stay there long, though, for his knees started to shake, and gave out under him as the blood rushed away from his face.

"Woah there, boyo, I didn't say 'go run a marathon'."

"What makes you think I'll run a marathon?" Merlin asked weakly from his place on the floor, his face turning rather green.

"I was exaggerating," the Doctor answered, walking over and lifting Merlin back onto his cot. "I was simply going to ask you to keep an eye on that map there," he pointed at a screen directly across from Merlin's cot, which displayed the TARDIS's position, and all the surrounding atomic masses, including life forms, planets, stars, spaceships, and so on. Currently, the tiny blue blip was surrounded by complete darkness. "And tell me if anything appears."

Merlin looked mildly patronized at this simple task, but he reviewed his current state and thought better about arguing.

And so they worked. The Doctor steered the TARDIS this way and that, then let it chug along on it's own for a while, he took copious notes, and reviewed all the books he had on The Empty, trying to find a way out. All of this he did while Merlin kept a watchful eye on the screen.

This seemed to go on for days, but, of course, they couldn't tell. Merlin's condition improved remarkably after a few power naps, and soon, he was shuffling about the TARDIS with a bottle of Tylenol on hand, which he had conveniently packed in his suitcase.

Sooner rather than later, the Doctor slammed a book (The Legend of Hell's Hell) down on the table in frustration.

"There's nothing here about navigating this thing!" he exclaimed, jumping up and starting to pace madly. Merlin watched him calmly while sipping at a cup of tea.

"Well, you said yourself, nothing has ever gotten out before, and that the beings that are sent here 'wander aimlessly'. No one navigates this thing," said Merlin, setting down his cup.

"Well, we have to learn how to in order to get back to our universe!" exclaimed the Doctor, running his fingers through his already ruffled hair. He had never felt so hopeless in his entire life, and he had a compilation of hopeless moments at his disposal. He felt as though he were being smothered, the breath in his chest struggling to get free, but unable too. His fight or flight response kicked in, and adrenaline started to run through his body. He had to get out of there, he had to: the lives of billions of people were on his shoulders. There was nowhere to fly, so his only option was to put himself out there and fight. His pacing halted abruptly.

"I'm going to go out there," he said resolutely, and he ran down the stairs to the storage compartment beneath the console.

"Going where?" Merlin called after him.

"Out there. Into The Empty." A shocked silence followed his proclamation as he continued to rummage through the storage compartment.

"Doctor, who knows what's out there. You could die!" Merlin protested. The Doctor reemerged onto the flight deck, a space suit clutched in one hand, a length of rope in the other.

"Well, what else to you expect me to do? We've been lying around for days, looking through books, and nothing has appeared on the screen. There's no other path to take." Merlin's mouth opened and closed, rather like a goldfish, as he struggled to unearth a plausible argument. "I'm going." Merlin closed his mouth, and sighed, resigned.

"Fine."

"Good! I'll just go and put this on…" The Doctor quickly changed into the suit in his bedroom, attempting to prevent the fear from rising in his chest. He knew what he was doing was probably fatal, but he was so stir-crazy, so desperate, that he was completely willing to try. He exited his room to stand before Merlin, helmet in his hand.

"I'm ready," he said.

The first thing Arthur felt was cold. He stayed still, for a time, eyes closed, shivering. Then came the taste of salt in his mouth. He opened his mouth to breathe in cool, breezy air, not enjoying the feeling of his chapped lips stretching. Waves lapped at his feet, soiling the edge of the bright red cloak he wore. He pushed himself into a sitting position, and opened his eyes for the first time. It really was very bright, even though it was cloudy. He squinted his bright blue eyes toward the spire in the distance, memories flooding back to him.

The bloody entirety of the Battle of Camlann, the pain of Mordred's sword in his side, Merlin's magic, Merlin holding him as he lay dying…

Then why wasn't he dead? He glanced behind him to see an apparently abandoned city. Buildings were toppled, some fires burned, and there was complete and utter silence save for the gentle gurgling of the lake.ape.

Then, he heard shouts from the decrepit city behind him.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" the voice called. It was female, and Arthur recognized it immediately as Gwen's.

"Gwen?" he called back, lifting himself to his feet with a groan, weighed down by his chainmail and sopping cape. He discarded the cape as he began to walk towards the city.

"Arthur!" Gwen called back, though Arthur still couldn't see her. He stumbled past the first crumbling buildings, desperately searching for his wife, terrifying thoughts running through his mind. What if she was hurt? What if something had fallen on top of her? What if whatever destroyed this city cornered her. He walked through an archway, entering into a group of buildings the like of which he had never seen before. It appeared to be a living space, almost the size of a village.

He began to walk through, arms folded tightly across his chest to dispel the cold, but stopped almost immediately. In front of the strange building, there was a perfectly cut square of not-overgrown grass, which Arthur had never seen, and there was water spraying out of a metal tube in the ground at high velocity. But that's not what scared him. There were bodies on this patch of grass, and recently dead by the looks of them. A father, with his hands clasped around his wife, who was in turn, holding a child of about three years old. At this sight, Arthur's terror grew tenfold.

"GUINEVERE!" he shouted, looking about wildly.

"Arthur!" came the soft reply. "In here, Arthur, I'm in here!" The voice was coming from another building across the road from where Arthur stood. He tore across the road, and through the door as quickly as he could.

"Gwen?" he asked when he got inside. In the house was overturned furniture, rumpled carpets, and the remains of dinner scattered about. He walked over and picked up a chicken wing off the ground. Still warm. All this carnage had happened fairly recently. But all of these thoughts flew from his mind as Gwen called his name again, from upstairs. Arthur hurried unceremoniously up the steps, the sound of his tread reverberating off the walls, creating an echoing clamor. But his footsteps slowed as he reached the top step.

Why didn't she come down to him when he called her name? Gwen would never play this type of game with him, not on a scene like this. He silently drew his sword. Maybe something was holding her hostage? Maybe she was trapped under something? But the voice hadn't sounded afraid, or in pain. It sounded almost playful. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, Arthur began making his way down the hall, but stopped when the voice sounded again.

"Arthur? Are you there, my darling?" A giggle sounded through the door directly in front of him, at the end of the hall. It sounded like her, all right. But he knew it couldn't be. He reached the door, and took a deep breath, and slowly opened it, his sword at the ready.

Nothing was in the room. He looked to the right, and to the left, at the low light coming in through the window. Nothing. But he felt as though something were watching him, calculating his every move. Hunting him. The door slammed behind him, the deadbolt locking into place. He whirled around to see a smiley face scratched into the back of the door. He was trapped in there with it. Sweat ran down his back as he turned on the spot.

A giggle, Gwen's giggle, resounded from every corner of the room. He still couldn't see it, no matter where he turned. How was it avoiding his gaze? He turned about once more, and there she was. Gwen. At least, he thought she was until her eyes glowed ruby red. What was this thing? A magical creature? He barely had time to think these thoughts before the thing flew at him with enough force to knock the breath out of his body. The thing was atop him now, unleashing unearthly shrieks. It smiled at him, and its mouth stretched lengthwise, distorting his wife's beautiful face, growing fangs longer than his middle finger. He attempted to maneuver his sword underneath the creature, as he had done to enemies many times before, but the metal just shattered against it. The impact of his blow startled it however, and he managed to throw the thing off of him. He stumbled as far away from it as he could get, his back against the locked door. The thing really was livid now, cheated out of an easy meal, the Guinevere-like thing had grown to ten feet in height, its arms dragging on the ground. The fangs grew longer, and it began to grow antlers, and bloody gashes began to open up in its side, so Arthur could see the internal organs without much difficulty.

He scrabbled for the lock behind him as the thing prepared to leap again. He managed to open the door just as it sprang, and slam it before it could rip him apart with its claws, though its antlers gored the door. He scrambled down the stairs in a panic, trying to get as much distance as possible between himself and the thing. He had reached the bottom of the staircase just as the thing appeared at the top, looking like a partially-devoured deer with blood dripping from its fanged maw. It cleared the stairs in a single bound, and cut him in the side with an antler. It unleashed a sound quite like a hyena at his cry of pain. It's playing with me, Arthur realized.

The thing circled him, grinning grotesquely, then whipped forward and sank its mossy teeth into his leg. Arthur screamed, and the thing let loose its horrifying laugh once more. It then hovered over his helpless form, intending for Arthur to be in as much pain as possible. It's jaws opened wide, and Arthur attempted to believe that the mossy teeth and bloody maw were the last things he would ever see. Then, suddenly, it froze. Arthur stared in confused amazement as its head fell from its shoulders, and its body collapsed upon his. He frantically pushed it off and scrambled desperately away from it, looking to find his savior. When he saw him, he could not believe his eyes.

"Hello, Arthur," said Leon


	8. Chapter 8

Sorry, you guys! I had finals coming up and there was no time to upload. I've finally picked it up again, thank goodness! Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Chapter 8

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Merlin asked as he watched the Doctor don the spacesuit.

"No. I think it's completely insane, but we have no other choice if we want any sort of chance of getting back," the Doctor answered. Merlin nodded apprehensively. He wanted very much to get back to Earth and help clean up his mess, but he was still hesitant to send his friend out into the most evil place ever to exist. The Doctor tied the rope around his waist, secured the helmet, then triple knotted his boots for good measure.

The Doctor straightened, tugged at the rope to be sure of its security, and stood at the open doors of the TARDIS. Merlin took hold of the rope, and braced himself against the console. The Doctor rested a hand against the doorframe, and looked back to Merlin, a glint of fear shining in his eyes.

"Are you sure you can hold me?" he asked, a slight shake to his voice. Merlin smiled.

"I'm stronger than I look." The Doctor nodded slightly, and gazed into the Empty a moment more before launching himself into the the velvety blackness. The first thing he felt was warmth. This confused him. How could there be warmth in a sinister, silent, menacing place such as this? But, there it was. Warmth that seeped in through his suit, slipped through his veins, sunk into his bones, encircled his heart. The darkness wrapped around his limp body like a blanket, inviting him to sleep. To escape the torments that accompanied the light of day, escape the noise of his constant thoughts, escape the pain. Oh, how sweet was the release offered. Silence encroached upon his thoughts, quieting them, one by one. His heartbeat slowed as his body grew completely still.

The Doctor was about to succumb to his all-consuming exhaustion when he felt something. Blowing through the imminent stillness of the Empty was a breeze. A breeze that buffeted his body slightly, back and forth, back and forth, shaking him from his trance. The Doctor could feel a rising frustration from deep within the Empty, as though it were a sentient being. He could feel the darkness attempt to claim him once more, and struggled with it for control of his conscious. As the altercation continued, noise replaced the heavy silence surrounding him, echoing screams of discomfort and anger.

The Doctor yanked at the rope on his waist, imploring Merlin to pull him back to the safety of the TARDIS, desperately trying to force the darkness from his mind. For a moment, he struggled alone, thinking that perhaps, Merlin had lost his hold on his lifeline. Then, he was yanked back in the direction of the TARDIS, the rope digging into his ribs.

As he was yanked back toward asylum, the warmth around him steadily turned to wintery cold, piercing his skin. It appeared that the entity that craved his unconsciousness would take it, whether he be dead or alive. Bitter chills raced up and though his extremities, climbing steadily toward his heart. And before he knew what was happening, the Doctor began to freeze. Snow took place of sweat, the saliva in his mouth turned to icicles, ice crystallized in his very blood. The pain in his veins numbed as his vision blurred, and soon, he was fading amid clouds of his own silvery breath.

Merlin pulled frantically on the rope as the tugging from the Doctor grew more desperate. He couldn't see the Doctor at all, which was strange, for the rope they chose for the Doctor's venture had only been 15 feet long. As he tugged, and time trudged on, he grew more and more afraid for his friend's welfare. For as he pulled, something seemed to be retaliating, pulling the Doctor away as Merlin drew him closer. Gradually, the yanking on the rope weakened, and as it weakened, Merlin pulled faster. But the thing reflecting his actions pulled stronger also, so the rope left red burns on his hands. But he kept pulling.

After what seemed like hours of the vicious tug-of-war, something broke in Merlin, and he let out a shrill scream of frustration, amplified several times by the magic bubbling to the surface. Something on the other side of the rope seemed to recoil, and the lack of pressure on the other side caused the Doctor to shoot into the TARDIS at high velocity, bowling Merlin over. Merlin lay there for a moment, shaking from exhaustion, and looked over at the Doctor. He was obviously unconscious, and quite literally frozen solid.

Merlin began to stand and tend to his companion, but before he could even sit up, an all- consuming force took advantage of his weakened state, plunging into his mind, and his vision went dark. He was still awake, and in control of his extremities, though, so he stood and started to stumble around in confusion. That's when an eerie voice filled his head.

You woke me.

The voice was ancient, deep, terrifying, and, though Merlin thought he must be imagining it, groggy.

With your talk and your noise. With your AWAKEDNESS.

Anger filled Merlin's head as the Empty roared in his ears. There was more than just annoyance there. There was pain. Their very consciousness caused this great entity pain. Merlin stumbled in his confused wandering, and collided with something. He felt around, touching toggles and buttons. The console. He reckoned he could find his way to the door from there. He began taking careful steps as the Empty attempted to take over his mind, to force him into sleep.

Merlin blinked the sleep from his eyes as his fingertips met the doorframe. He fumbled around until his hand met open air. He waved his fingers around until he found the door, flapping out into the darkness. He braced himself against the wall, and tugged with all his might, pulling the door closed. All at once, the presence lifted its influence from Merlin's mind, and there was silence once more. Merlin lingered for a moment, drawing in the cool air in great gasps. Until his eyes found the Doctor.

The Doctor lay prostrate on the ground, his eyes closed, jaw hanging ajar. His lips looked bruised. Tiny snowflakes dusted his hair, aging him thirty years. There was no fear coloring his features, only peaceful acceptance. This sight was haunting, and for a moment, Merlin feared the worst.

Merlin knelt by the Doctor's side hands hovering over the still body, steeling himself. He then wrapped his arms around the Doctor, the cold from his skin penetrating his clothing and burning his skin. He then gritted his teeth and hoisted the immobile body off the ground. Merlin carried him out of the control room, through twisting corridors, checking rooms as he went. After a few minutes of searching he found a room that he supposed was the Doctor's There was scientific equipment scattered everywhere, and there were pictures and diagrams of different planets. There was one picture over the headboard of the bed, and it was by far the most magnificent.

Crystallized, opaline towers soared toward the shining, periwinkle sky, grasping the wispy, silver clouds, which curled around the razor sharp tops of the towers, as though in greeting. Light from the double suns slicked the towers like waterfalls, and the refracted light made the scene almost heavenly. There was a forest of lilac trees, whose flowers resembled rose diamonds, which soaked up the light from the towers, adding an ethereal, rosy glow. The whole scene seemed to sing.

Merlin set the Doctor on the bed. He pulled up a chair, and sat beside him, rubbing his hands together. He set both hands on the Doctor's forehead.

"Dêman hæte, flôwan duguð gicel," he murmured. He lifted his hands, and watched with bated breath. Where his hands had touched, the ice became a bit less opaque, but did not completely melt. Confused, Merlin decided to actually check the Doctor's physical state. He set his hands on his forehead again.

"Mæg, tîðian me êower wærc." At once, everything the Doctor felt was translated through Merlin's fingers and into his body. Merlin felt ice covering every surface in his body, even seep into his blood. It was only when Merlin felt the frigid sensation close around his heard that he let go.

The Doctor was dying. And Merlin didn't know if he was going to be fast enough to save him.


	9. Chapter 9

Leon wiped his sword on the tattered curtains flapping around a shattered window, sheathed it, then grasped Arthur's arm in greeting.

"How'd you kill it?" asked Arthur, exhaustion seeping in as the adrenaline faded.

"Got lucky, I suppose. There was a weak spot where its head met its neck," Leon responded. Arthur nodded. "Do you have any idea where we are?"

"No idea. It can't possibly be our world. I mean, look at this thing!" Arthur pointed to a contraption sticking out of the wall. It was silver, and looked rather like a cane with a protrusion on either side. "Have you ever seen one before?"

Leon inspected the object closely. "No. What do you reckon it's for?" Arthur shrugged, and reached toward it. Leon suddenly threw his arm out. "Wait, sire! What if it's dangerous?"

"Doesn't look dangerous."

"That doesn't mean it isn't."

Arthur sighed. "Very well, then." Leon redrew his sword, and cautiously advanced on the contraption. He prodded gently with his sword from several different angles for a number of minutes before grudgingly stepping aside. "See? Nothing to worry about." Despite his words of consolation to Leon, Arthur approached the contraption with caution. He took off his leather glove and began prodding it from all angles. He poked one of the protruding appendages coming off the side, and was shocked when it moved slightly. He jerked his hand back when it did so, and looked nervously toward Leon. Leon shrugged. Curiosity overcame his apprehension, and he applied more pressure to the moving protrusion.

It jerked back faster than Arthur expected it too, and he leaped back when a stream of water shot out of the cane-like part of the strange object. Leon and Arthur stared in wonder as water filled the metal basin below.

"How is it doing that?" Leon asked, moving closer to the jet of water.

"Sorcery, I suppose," answered Arthur. Leon reached out and toggled the knob that Arthur pushed back. All at once, the water stopped. Leon looked toward Arthur with fear and wonder apparent on his face.

"Life would have been so much easier if we had these installed at the palace," said Leon, twisting the knob back and forth, watching the water start and stop.

"Indeed," said Arthur distractedly. He found Leon, but where were the other knights? Where was Guinevere? He was itching to search for them, but first he had to pull Leon away from the water-producing mechanism, which would undoubtedly take a lifetime.

After what seemed like years of toggling the knobs back and forth, they finally got bored and decided to move on. They gathered up their gear, and lightheartedly discussed the implications that the device would have had on palace life, until they reached the door. The somber sight yanked them unpleasantly back to earth. Water ran in abundance down the streets, tattered clothing, half eaten food, and assorted playthings seemed to be thrown about haphazardly, and the whole ghastly display was completed by the bodies strewn every which way, each with an expression of horror frozen in place by whatever had wreaked such havoc.

Leon gulped audibly.

"We need to find the others," Arthur stated determinedly, hand clasped on the hilt of his sword.

"Others?" Leon inquired.

"Well, it can't have been just you and I that were brought back." Leon nodded in agreement, and began searching through the surrounding buildings, tense, and never more than 5 feet away from each other. After about an hour of extremely slow progress, Arthur realized the utter uselessness of this tactic.

"We need to split up," he decided.

"Split up? Pardon me, sir, but have you gone insane?"

"Well, this doesn't seem to be working, and I am somewhat anxious to find my wife."

"Arthur, how can you be sure she's alive?"

"I just know it, all right?" Arthur looked up at the sky. "I know." It was then that an eerie shriek rent the still air, and the two companions exchanged panicked looks. "Right. We need to be smarter about this," Arthur admonished, head swiveling. "We can't just search willy nilly. Where would we find the knights on a normal day?"

"Arthur, I would hardly classify this as a normal day," Leon replied, looking around as well. Arthur glared at him.

"Just cooperate," Arthur ordered.

"Well, they would be in many different places."

"All right then, let's just focus on one. Where would we find Gwaine?" They looked at each other, and simultaneously answered, "The tavern."

They both drew their swords, and went on a hunt for anything that would signify the presence of alcohol. After a few minutes of searching, they heard the sound of shattering bottles. After such a long period of silent and panicked searching, the noise almost sounded like music. They traced the sound to a rather squat building that had the appearance of being tucked away in a corner and forgotten. Just as they were about to enter, the doors flew open and revealed a woman possessing a head of rather curly hair dragging a rather attractive Irishman by the ear. Put quite frankly, she appeared quite cross.

"You just never know when to quit, do you?" Arthur warmed at the sound of the woman's voice.

"Pardon me, my lady, but I kinda like the idea of showing up to the pearly gates drunk off my balls," answered the Irishman, pulling away and rubbing his ear and brushing back his shoulder-length, dark hair. It was then that he spied the two men over the woman's shoulder.

"Arthur! Leon!" he shouted. He dropped the bottle he was holding, rushed forward, and tackled them both in a hug only Gwaine could give.

"Nice to see you, old friend!" yelled Arthur jovially, after spitting out a mouthful of Gwaine's hair.

"Arthur?" came a soft voice. Arthur pulled away from Gwaine, and finally laid eyes on Guinevere. She had pinned her hair up in the knot she always wore as a servant, with tiny ringlets framing her face with a warm, brown curtain. Her eyes were dark, but not like a dank tunnel would be dark. They reminded Arthur of the last night of summer: warm, accented with lights given off by thousands of candles in the city as the people of Camelot celebrated the Harvest, and the stars that shone so brightly when the whole city sighed as it laid down to rest. Those eyes held so many memories within their dark embrace, and each and every one of them was beautiful. But now, they were full of tears.

"Hello, my love. Look, I'm sorr-" But before he could finish his sentence, she threw her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his. Within seconds, Arthur forgot everything he was about to say. He forgot about the monsters, he forgot about death, and his confusion. In those few seconds, it was just Gwen. No knights, no him, just Gwen. And oh, how he wished it would stay that way. He was disappointed when she pulled away so soon. She kept her grip on his hands.

"I-I," she stuttered. She seemed at a loss for words. She kept opening and closing her mouth, searching for something to say. After a few seconds of this, her face warmed as a smile graced her features. "I've missed you."

"And I you," answered Arthur, resting a hand on her cheek. They were jerked out of their reverie when Gwaine began pretending to retch off to the side.

"There's a time and a place sire," contributed Leon, feigning disgust. But Arthur could tell that he was secretly pleased for them. Arthur cleared his throat uncomfortably, and pulled away, but kept his fingers interlaced with hers.

"We need to find a place to take refuge," interjected Gwen. "There seems to be all manner of magical creatures out here, intending to kill us."

"Agreed," said Arthur, drawing his sword. "The only problem is, all of the houses in the area seem to be completely destroyed."

"So where are we supposed to take cover?" asked Gwaine, picking up another bottle from the ground. Gwen promptly slapped it out of his hands.

"The woods, obviously," said Leon, pointing his sword West. "It seems to be the only thing in the area that isn't shredded, torn or burning." Arthur nodded.

"We'll need some supplies," suggested Gwaine.

"Salvage whatever you can from the houses," commanded Arthur. They spent the next 15 minutes gathering food, water, blankets, and whatever clothes they could find that appeared to fit. The knights and Arthur gathered together a sizeable pile of shirts and trousers, but Gwen was having trouble finding "appropriate" clothing.

"And what is this supposed to be?" groused Gwen, holding up a shirt.

"What's wrong with it?" Arthur called back, about three feet away, packing all of his clothes in a leather satchel he had found.

"What's wrong with it? It's missing sleeves!"

"And?" Arthur asked grinning. Color rushed into her cheeks.

"Shut up." She kept digging through the piles of clothes they had gathered together. She came up with a woolen sweater and a pair of blue trousers. Gwen ran the material between her fingers curiously.

"What are those?" asked Gwaine, ambling over with his own satchel.

"Trousers, I think," answered Gwen. "But I've no idea what they're made of."

"But you're a seamstress, isn't this your forte?" asked Gwaine.

"Shut up," she said again. She rushed inside, dressed quickly, then came back out again, trying to roll up the sleeves on her sweater while simultaneously pulling on some small leather boots. When she finished, she put her hands on her hips. "Well, what do you think?"

Arthur looked at her in her wrinkled, too big sweater and smiled. "Perfect." She smiled, pleased.

"I said it once, I'll say it again," teased Gwaine, putting his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "Nice catch." Arthur cuffed him on the back of the head.

"Are we ready to move, sire?" asked Leon, shouldering his pack. Arthur nodded, and they started towards the woods.

Arthur stopped the small party when they reached the edge of the trees. The entire city behind them was demolished, but none of the trees seemed damaged. Not even a leaf was singed.

"Maybe it's protected," suggested Gwaine.

"By what? What could possibly save an entire forest from destruction?" asked Leon.

"Magic," answered Gwen, and the group fell into silence. Arthur forged ahead anyway, starting along a well-worn path, Gwen and Leon following.

"Arthur? What do you think you're doing?" asked Gwaine, still on the other side of the treeline.

"Seeking shelter, isn't that obvious?" asked Gwen before Arthur could speak.

"But you said it was protected by magic."

"And?" interjected Leon.

"And? Isn't magic evil? Have you forgotten about Dragoon the Great? Morgana?"

"Well, maybe this sorcerer is nice," Arthur suggested calmly. Gwaine looked at them as though they were insane. "Look, not all magic is evil, just like fire isn't evil. It depends on who wields it. It's a tool, not always a weapon."

"But-"

"Merlin was a sorcerer," thundered Arthur suddenly. "Was he evil?"

"Merlin?" gasped Gwaine. "A sorcerer?" Arthur nodded. Gwaine stumbled after them, and they continued on their way.

After stepping through the trees, it seemed that they entered into a different world. It was damp and balmy, and sunlight filtered through the leaves. The world behind them had been dark and cold. Deer pranced, birds chirped, rabbits leapt, and a golden glow enfolded everything around them.

"It feels like spring," Gwaine commented.

"Indeed," answered Leon. "Only a very powerful sorcerer could have done this."

"Well, then, let's just hope they're nice," suggested Gwen, and they carried on in silence.

Arthur tried to hope, but he still kept his sword at the ready. Before Merlin, he had never even considered the fact that sorcerers could be good. All of this life, he had learned that magic corrupted and twisted the user until they were something completely unrecognizable. He thought that's what happened to Morgana, but it must have been something else. Merlin had served him for years without a fault in his loyalty. And yet, he had practiced magic for his entire life. He saved his life multiple times with it. And before Merlin told him, he had never believed it could be true. He was too good. Too loyal. Too brave.

Before too long, they heard the gurgling of a river. When they reached the clear, pristine waters, they saw little fish swimming downstream, darts of silver against the dark backdrop of the riverbed. They saw that their path continued on the other side, but another branched off and followed the river.

"Which way, sire?" asked Leon, ever dutiful.

"It would be smarter to live by a river. I mean, fresh water, these fish we keep seeing. It must be this way," Arthur decided, pointing with his sword to the fork in the road.

"But, it would also be smart to live deeper in the trees and run less of a risk of people seeing you," interjected Gwen, pointing across the river.

"But everyone needs food," admonished Arthur.

"I'd bet he could kill anything with nothing but a muttered word," Gwen retaliated. Arthur nodded. They stood for several minutes, debating the topic, when there came a voice from across the river.

"Yoo hoo!" They all whipped around, and beheld a little old woman standing across the water with a plate covered with a towel. She looked innocent enough, about 5 feet tall, huge spectacles that magnified her eyes several times, and stark white hair pulled over her shoulder in a braid. She wore a flowered cardigan and a baby blue skirt. "Are you lost my dears?"

"Yes-" Gwen started to say, but Arthur interrupted.

"Are you the sorcerer?" The old woman looked at them a moment, then laughed lightly.

"Oh, no dear. My tongue would slip over all those funny words," she answered. "Hold on, son, let me come over." She bent over, and picked a bright yellow flower from in between strands of grass. They heard a deep rumbling sound from beneath their feet and the water in the river began quaking.

"What's happening?" yelled Gwaine, fear coloring his words.

"Don't worry!" called the old woman. "It's just the bridge!"

"Bridge?" Leon asked.

"Look!" called Gwen. Some of the stones from the riverbed were separating from the earth, and melding together, forming, as she said, a stone bridge leading across the water. She hopped merrily across, and the bridge collapsed, and the flower on the other bank grew back.

"If you're not a sorcerer, then what was that?" asked Gwaine, wiping sweat from his brow.

"Oh, just something the young man across the way set in for me. He's rather kind, brings me pot roast on Saturdays. I bring him snickerdoodles on Wednesdays. He let slip that they're his favorite over tea."

"Young man?" Leon inquired. "Snickerdoodles? What in the blazes is a snickerdoodle?" The old woman pulled the towel off of her plate to show some perfectly cooked biscuits sprinkled in sugar.

"And yes, there's a young man that lives just down the path," said the old woman, "He makes such wonderful things with his hands. He made me some golden birds for my birthday that chirp all by themselves. They like to fly about my rafters. They're real birds, but they're solid gold!" She grinned happily.

"So he's the sorcerer?" asked Arthur. The old woman squinted at him, pulled of her spectacles, wiped them off, put them back on and looked Arthur full in the face.

"Oh my heavenly days," she whispered, her mouth falling open. "You must be Arthur!" Arthur was rather taken aback at the sudden change of subject.

"Y-yes?" he spluttered. The old woman took him by the hand and started leading him down the path, the others in tow.

"I'm Megan," she giggled, flouncing hand in hand with Arthur. "Let me take you to your friends."

"Friends?"

"They were looking for you," she answered. "So I pointed them in the right direction. The young man that lives at the house appears to be away right now, but I'm sure he won't mind you staying there for a while."

"Why me?"

"Oh, he talked of you endlessly, telling unbelievable stories. Said he was your servant, back in the day." Arthur froze. So did the others. They exchanged shocked glances.

"Merlin?" gasped Gwen.

"He's still alive?" questioned Leon.

"Oh, yes. He celebrated his 2,542nd birthday a week ago." They all gaped at her. "I made him a cake, but couldn't find enough candles." She laughed again.

"But what do you mean by our friends?" asked Gwaine. "Who are you referring to?"

"Oh, the other knights and a very fine old physician." Megan smiled brightly at them. "Come now, I'll take care of you. Let's go find your friends."


	10. Chapter 10

"Come on, Doctor, come on," muttered Merlin as he focused his magic on the Doctor's body. Why was the ice melting so slowly? Usually, it all just collapsed into a puddle, but this time, it came off in slow drips. Merlin kept track of his pulse, which was getting weaker and weaker. He was almost sure that one of his hearts had already given out.

He wasn't paying attention to the trajectory of the TARDIS, and right now, he couldn't care less about the direction it took. It was floating idly along, when suddenly, it sped up. It started to shake. Alarms started blaring. Yet Merlin paid no attention. After a few minutes of this havoc, the TARDIS stopped. Merlin sighed with relief.

Then, the TARDIS plummeted. Merlin and the Doctor got lifted up off the ground as the TARDIS fell, deadly equipment missed Merlin by inches as he kept his hands on the Doctor. After about a minute of just falling, there was a resounding BOOM as the TARDIS crashed.

All noises ceased. It appeared that they had landed somewhere. Luckily, Merlin and the Doctor had landed by the door. Merlin pushed it open. What he saw made no sense. The ground was covered in tiny little trees. Not saplings, trees. Fully developed trees. Then what was blocking the light from the sky? He looked up, and saw that the canopy was formed of grass and flowers. Flowers the size of trees, and trees the size of flowers. He was itching to explore more.

He closed the door, and searched the TARDIS for something to keep the Doctor warm. He found a space heater in one of the many rooms, set the Doctor in a chair with 3 blankets wrapped around his shoulders, turned it on and pointed it at him. He stepped back, admiring his handiwork, then set out into the strange world before him.

As he walked, his eyes dashed in every direction, drinking in every detail. Tiny little deer the size of squirrels pranced past his feet, hummingbirds the size of dinosaurs sipped nectar from the gargantuan flowers, the rivers flowed uphill instead of down, and instead of the rivers being cool and refreshing, they were rather hot and bubbling.

As he was cooling a cupful of water with magic, he heard a small call from the base of a flower nearby. He quickly gulped down the liquid, then moved cautiously toward the noise. He lined his body up with the stem in case there was something menacing behind it, then carefully leaned out. He saw nothing accept colossal shrubs and blankets of moss. The call resounded again. He looked down and beheld a majestic, golden eagle the size of a sparrow. It looked up at him with solemn eyes, and let out its feeble call once more. He picked it up carefully, inspecting it for injuries, and noticed that its wing was twisted at an odd angle.

"Oh, you poor thing," he muttered quietly. "What have you done to yourself?" The eagle gazed up at him reproachfully, and wriggled a bit, trying to get away.

"Oi, your wing's broken, you're not going anywhere," he scolded, trying to keep the animal still. "Just let me heal you." The eagle kept wiggling.

"All right then," Merlin sighed, "looks like I'm going to have to force you into it." He rested a hand lightly on the injured wing, ignoring the eagle's protests. He closed his eyes, trying to remember the healing spell used on animals. He had hardly ever used it before. He steeled himself, and incanted, "Becnâwan me, ofl¯ætan me gîeman êow."

The eagle let out a screech as the wing righted itself, then stretched it out to the side, testing it. It gazed up at Merlin in what seemed like gratitude, still flapping its wings. Then, without warning, it took off with a screech. Merlin watched it fly, noticing its erratic pattern. It must be afraid of something, but of what? He stilled, taking note of his surroundings. The water bubbled, the flowers swayed, the trees crunched underfoot, wind caused by the hummingbird wings ruffled his hair. Then, the water rippled, the flowers quivered and the hummingbirds zoomed away. The ground quaked, and Merlin was knocked off his feet. When he sat up, rubbing his head, a sound echoed through the forest, a fearsome… croak?

Merlin scrambled to his feet as a massive bullfrog leaped into the clearing. It eyed him for a moment, probably deciding if he was food. Merlin stood, frozen, as the frog eyed him. When it did nothing, he began to let down his guard. It was a frog, after all, what harm could it do?

This thought was immediately banished when the frog reared back its head and released another croak, and more thumps resounded through the forest, undoubtedly more gigantic frogs hopping toward them. Merlin scrambled back as six more emerged from the flowers, and all seven gathered around him. They stared unnervingly at him, in complete silence for some time before they all began croaking excitedly. Merlin caught glimpses of shark teeth between their slimy lips. They're carnivorous?

That question was answered when one of the frogs unhinged its jaw, and its tongue jetted forward, aimed straight for his face. He dove at the last second, avoiding the tongue, and began running in the opposite direction. He sprinted as best as he could while crushing trees under his shoes and avoiding swaying flower stems. He thought he was making good time until one of the frogs flew through the air above his head, and landed right in front of him. He skidded to a stop, and began running the other way. All he earned from the decision was another faceful of frog. They had created a circle around him, and they were closing in, croaking triumphantly. Merlin quickly flicked through the plethora of spells in his mind. He shot fire at them, which did nothing, he didn't even bother with the water, he shot poison darts at them, which just glanced off harmlessly. He exhausted every spell he used. Accept for one. But he hadn't seen her in years, not since he healed her as a baby. She might be dead. It was a long shot, but it was all he had at this point. As the frogs closed in around him, he shouted, "O, Dragarn, ftengomai au se kallon soi katerkheo deuro!"

The frogs smothered him and soon, all he saw was slimy green flesh and razor-sharp teeth. He closed his eyes, preparing to die, when he heard an ear splitting roar. One of the frogs shrieked as it was engulfed in scarlet flames, and Merlin curled up on the ground, arms around his head to protect himself from the blaze. He heard another frog squeal and a squelch as claws dug into it. In short, he heard each frog's grisly death as he lay on the ground, protecting himself.

Then, silence. Merlin stayed on the ground, just in case. Then, he heard a muffled splash. He lifted his head to behold the slashed and burned carcassas of the frogs, but not the perpetrator. There were more splashes from beyond the flowers. He walked carefully through them, hardly daring to believe it. He had last seen her when she was a baby, crippled and alone. After healing her, he left her to fend for herself in the mountains of Alaska, at her insistence. She would be all grown up now.

He moved through the flowers until they thinned out and led to a lake. In it was a beautiful white dragon. She was as tall as 15 men, her scales flashed like opals in the sun, throwing rainbows across the water, horns curved gracefully from her head, and thin spikes stuck out from her spine, adding a menacing edge to her beauty. She turned her eyes on Merlin, their sapphire shade matching his exactly.

"Aithusa," he whispered, shocked. She had been ill, forlorn, and the size of a large dog when he last laid eyes on her: he couldn't believe the magnificent beast that stood before him. She kept her eyes on him, her gaze unwavering, like she was trying to communicate something to him, and that's when he remembered that she was unable to speak.

At least, so he thought. He felt something brush across his consciousness, a warmth, a presence, and he recoiled instinctively out of surprise. He had learned to guard his mind from many an evil: he hated the idea that someone could delve through his mind, and took every measure to ensure that his memories remained his. It had been many years since he considered using this power for communication instead of a weapon. The last time he had used it to speak was when he was young, and living in Camelot, communicating with the druids as he did. He believed this is what Aithusa was going for.

He lowered the barriers around his mind hesitantly, almost expecting someone to attack. Again, the presence touched his mind, and this time, he welcomed it into his thoughts. Warmth filled his mind, and he soon realized that this was a result of the dragon's emotions: she was happy to see him.

" _Merlin_ ," she cooed, in a soft, modulated voice, her voice slipping like honey through his thoughts. " _I have been alone for forever and a day, and it gladdens my heart to see you once more._ "

"I feel the same," he choked, for he was suddenly overcome with emotion. He felt like he was looking at his own child, all grown up, and nostalgia gripped him tight. "You're so… big." He winced at the simplicity of the statement, knowing that phrase alone did not encompass his wonder. But he felt a rush of pleasure through their newly forged mental link, and thought that if she could, she would have blushed.

" _That I am,_ " she laughed, wading through the water, and alighting upon the shore. " _I have had hundreds of years, after all. I have done well for myself._ " She lowered her head so that she was looking Merlin directly in the eyes. " _You seem so small for one so powerful,_ " she joked, and she licked his nose lightly. " _But then again, you almost lost your life to a handful of amphibians. The prophets of old would have had a laugh at that._ "

Merlin rolled his eyes as her laughter filled his mind.

"There is something that did not change: your childishness," he admonished lightly, poking her gently on the nose.

" _Oh please, little one. Life is too long to grow up._ " He looked at her for a moment, then studied his shoes. Her gaze softened. " _I see that you have endured much, and many a demon troubles your mind. I know what you have done, Merlin, and you need not explain yourself to me. Our world is in great peril, but so is this one. The peoples here require your assistance, and if you want to get anywhere with our world, you need to save this one first._ "

He looked up at her again, confused. Yes, he had seen trees and flowers switch places, along with man-eating frogs, but this world did not seem to be in peril, as Aithusa said.

"What's wrong here? What's the danger?" he asked her.

" _I will let the natives present their plight,_ " she answered. " _I will take you to them._ " She lowered herself onto the ground, and looked at him expectantly. It had been thousands of years since he had ridden a dragon, and was worried that he might either impale himself on one of Aithusa's spines, or fall off and have his corpse eaten by frogs. " _If this is going to work,_ " Aithusa warned, feeling his doubt, " _You need to trust me. Wholly and completely._ "

"I do trust you," he reassured her, clambering awkwardly onto her back.

" _How can I be sure of that when you do not even trust yourself?_ " she asked. Merlin stayed silent. " _Please. I can feel your loathing toward yourself. You assume everyone feels the same as you do, Merlin, as is the case with doubt. But know this: no matter what you have done, no matter what you will do, nothing will keep me from loving you._ " Sudden tears formed in Merlin's eyes at her words. If he could earn the trust from one such as Aithusa, maybe he could put some trust back into himself.

" _Now come, we must be off,_ " murmured Aithusa gently. " _My little dragonlord._ "


	11. Chapter 11

Merlin had almost forgotten what it was like to ride a dragon. Never had he felt more free, more himself. Old, childish joy was rekindled as Aithusa surged off of the ground, and soared so high, the flowers seemed to return to their natural size. The wind roared through his hair, turning his spirit wild. He howled along to the ancient song that pounded through his blood, his heart keeping a bright tempo, the breath escaping his lungs. He cast a spell about himself that provided him with sufficient oxygen as Aithusa climbed higher.

Then, Aithusa broke through the clouds, and leveled off. All was calm. A sea of opaque clouds swirled around them, curling and winding about each other as though they were lovers locked in an embrace. The sun was beginning to set, and its radiant beams washed the ethereal landscape in color. Some clouds shone bright as rubies, others glowed like fire. The wind whispered secrets to him as he attempted to grab at the riches surrounding him, but they just wisped away as though they never were. The sunlight glanced off of Aithusa's scales, turning her into a burning ember racing through the sky. The sight was a wonder to behold: he doubted anyone else would ever get the chance to watch as a dragon soared above the clouds, to see the otherworldly beauty that existed in this realm. Never had Merlin dreamed that he would see something so awe-inspiring.

" _It's beautiful_." He sent his thoughts to Aithusa.

" _Aye, it is,_ " she agreed. But she volunteered no thoughts of her own. Merlin sensed a sadness in her, and wondered how anyone could be melancholy while beholding something as majestic as the sight before them.

" _What's wrong_?" he asked her.

" _It is nothing, little one_ ," she answered, " _I just do not see as you do. I am a predatory creature, and my eyesight is indeed superior to a humans'. But sadly, much beauty was sacrificed to give my kind the ability to spy prey at a distance_."

" _What do you mean_?" he asked.

" _You will need to see through my eyes_." Tendrils of her consciousness began to invade his thoughts, until his mind started to fuse with Aithusa's, and he felt her mighty wing beats as they buffeted the clouds, felt the fire in her belly, felt her breath as it blew in and out of her lungs. " _Close your eyes_ ," Aithusa commanded. Merlin obeyed. Instead of seeing what he marveled at before, he saw what Aithusa saw. Her sight appeared to be infrared, with the sun burning forth like the heart of a forge, and the landscape fading into blue as the sun's hold lessened. Through the clouds, he could see tiny red pinpricks representing the host of animals below. He could see for miles in every direction, but it was nowhere as beautiful as Merlin's view.

" _It is a great sacrifice indeed,_ " he conceded, withdrawing himself from Aithusa.

" _It has kept me alive_ ," she reassured, sadness still gripping her. " _But I have heard the most beautiful stories about the sunset, about meadows in the springtime, how the leaves on the trees turn to fire in the autumn_." Wistfulness overtook her. " _Sometimes I wish I were not a dragon. I am the last of my kind, and I am unable to appreciate the beauty of the world around me._ "

Merlin considered her wishes for a moment, then an idea came to him. He reached out with his mind, enveloping Aithusa's consciousness with his own instead of the other way around. Aithusa resisted a bit at first, but eventually gave herself up to him. They fused as they were before.

" _Close your eyes_ ," Merlin repeated, and he felt Aithusa's heart warm at his gesture. She did as he said, and the wonder she felt at the sight before her was more powerful than anything Merlin had ever felt. His eyes burned with tears as Aithusa tried to commit every single detail to memory: the shades of the clouds, the burning of the sun.

Soon, Merlin separated his mind from Aithusa's, yet her emotions were still plain to him. She was overjoyed at the gift Merlin had given her, and gratitude flooded her thoughts.

" _Thank you, little one_ ," she gasped in his mind. " _I will hold this memory close for as long as I have the capacity."_ They flew in reverent silence for a few moments. Then, Merlin remembered the purpose of their quest.

" _You say that we are heading toward the home of the natives?"_ he asked Aithusa.

" _Yes,"_ she answered.

" _Is there anything specific that I should know about them? I fear that I will offend them somehow."_

" _You needn't worry, little one. They treat guests with the highest esteem, seeing that visitors are a rarity that is much enjoyed. If you do fumble in their traditions, they will think nothing of it, for how could you know their customs?"_

" _Are they the only intelligent life on this planet?"_

" _It would seem so. Though, they are not of this planet. Their species began somewhere else, though I know not where."_

" _If they're the only intelligent life on this planet, then what has it in peril?"_

" _I suppose that I will let them tell you that. We draw near to their home."_

It was at this moment that Merlin realized that Aithusa had angled toward the ground, and the air around him began to grow warmer. They broke through the line of clouds to behold what seemed like a normal forest. All the trees were the right size, and their canopy concealed whatever may have been hiding among the leaves.

" _Aithusa, every other place on this planet seems to have been earth flipped backwards. Why is this section different?"_ Merlin asked.

" _They made it that way. Their reasons are unknown to me,"_ Aithusa answered. Merlin pondered this strange occurrence as he and Aithusa descended toward the treetops. Before too long, Merlin spied a clearing wide enough for Aithusa to land in, and she did so, tearing grass with her great talons, gouging deep trenches in the soft earth.

All at once, shrieks of protest split the air. Merlin clapped hands over his ears as the shrieks rose in volume as one. Aithusa roared, swinging her head from side to side in an effort to be rid of the horrendous noise. Merlin opened forced open his watering eyes in time to see indistinct shapes weaving effortlessly through the trees, never touching the ground. He frantically drew his sword, painfully drawing his hands away from his ears. He was just about to leap off of Aithusa and confront whatever fiend lay beyond the shadows of the forest, when all sound ceased. The silence was almost more painful that the relentless screaming, ringing pounding in his skull. He waited with bated breath. He looked toward Aithusa in confusion and fear. But, Aithusa didn't seem afraid or nervous. On the contrary, she simply looked miffed and annoyed, rubbing at the ear holes on either side of her head with her huge paws.

Merlin heard a rustling in the underbrush that bordered the forest, and looked up to see who, indeed, had caused such a ruckus. To his surprise, it was not horrible creatures that unfolded themselves from the leaves: quite the contrary, in fact. 6 women emerged gracefully from the belly of the forest, their movements fluid and smooth, as if their limbs were flowing in the current of a mountain brook in high summer. All were blond, all were tall, and all were wearing blindingly white dresses, seemingly of Grecian make. Some had eyes as dark as black velvet, some had eyes akin to the depths of the sea, others, eyes that mirrored light filtering down through a forest canopy. But their striking beauty was not what held Merlin in awe. Huge, white wings burst forth from their backs like frothing waterfalls, sweeping the ground.

"Angels," he whispered aloud.


	12. Chapter 12

Merlin kept his sword raised, simply staring at the beings before him. They stared back, albeit angrily. They stood there for a few moments, sizing each other up, before Aithusa let out a grunt of frustration and stamped her foot.

" _Enough of this,"_ she growled, projecting her thoughts to all those present. " _Hashna, you must have known that it was I that landed in the meadow._ " The angel in the lead of the troop of menacing women spoke in a lilting voice.

"And you, Aithusa, have been with us long enough to know that we simply heard the call of death through the trees. It is our duty to guard this forest, and we care for it as if every blade of grass is our kin. Each tree-"

" _Yes, yes, I've heard it all before. But that is no reason to attack me_." Another one of the angels spoke from behind Hashna.

"In truth, it was not you that caught our attention." Her startling green eyes locked onto Merlin's as she spoke. "It was the creature riding upon your back as though you were nothing but a common mule."

"Hush, Alula," hissed Hashna, but Alula still glared daggers at Merlin as he made to dismount.

"But," asked another standing beside Alula. "What is it that rides on you, Aithusa? I've never seen anything like it in the forest." All the others nodded wonderingly, accept for Hashna, who stared at Merlin with what he guessed was wonder.

"Dare I believe it?" she whispered, stepping toward Merlin, unthreatening. Merlin stilled as she came closer, even though he wished he could step away. She kept walking until her face was inches from his. He noticed that she had lines around her eyes that he hadn't seen before. He supposed that she was the oldest of the group. She lifted a hand cautiously and ran a finger along the stubble on his chin. She jerked her hand back as though he had slapped her. "It is!" she exclaimed, stepping back. "A man!"

"A man?!" exclaimed the others, looking at Merlin with renewed interest. Chattering broke out amongst them.

"But I've only heard of those in stories!"

"They're wingless? I never knew. What a shame."

"They're taller than I imagined."

"Where's all his hair? What is that growing out of his face?"

"Hush now," chastised Hashna. "He's not some animal for you to stare at. If you can't handle seeing strange things in the woods, you won't be allowed in at all." This earned silence from the group, as though being barred from the forest were equal to a death sentence. Hashna turned to Merlin once more. "Are there more of you in the forest? Or are you the only one?"

Merlin was about to assure Hashna that he was, indeed, alone, when he remembered something quite important. He clapped a hand to his forehead. "No! I'm not alone. I have a friend that I left in the woods all alone, and I forgot him until now. His name is the Doctor, and he's frozen solid." He was really panicking now. What a friend and companion he had been! His heart was beating fast and his breathing became shallow as he imagined all of the horrible things that could have happened to the Doctor in his absence. "There was nothing I could do, so I left him with some blankets and a heater, and went to scout the area for some help, when I got cornered by frogs and-"

Aithusa roared loudly, leaving his ears ringing as well as silencing him.

" _Enough with this senseless talk! I shall find him and bring him here for the Enkeli to heal. Now, Merlin, give me this Doctor's general position. I shall find him."_ Merlin assumed that the "Enkeli" were the angels, who were still staring at him shamelessly in blatant wonder. Merlin described the Doctor's location, and she took off once more, leaving yet more ruts in the earth of the meadow, earning a chorus of hisses from the angels, who flinched as though Aithusa's claws were carving into their own flesh.

They stood there awkwardly for a time, neither party speaking, the Enkeli staring and whispering among themselves, and Merlin shifting uncomfortably with the sensation of being examined through a microscope. Finally, Hashna withdrew from the group of angels, and approached Merlin once again.

"I'm afraid that we have no authority to decide what to do with you," she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. "We are but Cemen, guardians of beings who cannot speak for themselves. I believe that this is a matter for our Ayal: we haven't seen a man in thousands of years. Forgive my garrison, they have never seen the likes of you, and they're quite excited by drama."

"That's an understatement," answered Merlin, looking over Hashna's shoulder at the still whispering group of angels. Hashna smiled.

"I would advise you not to make jokes around other members of my kind," she chastised lightly, "Many are not old enough to remember the ways of humans. Though truthfully, I believe that the loss of humor was a quite a sacrifice for the good of our kind."

"Why? What happened?" Merlin asked quickly. He was not about to waste a chance to talk to and extraterrestrial being who seemed willing to speak openly. But, she only smiled again.

"All in good time," she answered. Merlin frowned, disappointed. "Do not look so morose. I merely think that this matter is something for the Ayal to discuss. Again, those of my station and I, put quite frankly, don't care for matters of state. We are content to reside in the forest, and care for it. As a result, I know next to nothing of legal affairs, those are reserved for the Maethor and the Ayal. Now, come, and let us take you to them, for the forest is filled with dangers."

They began to walk in an uncomfortable silence, the angel that insulted Merlin, Alula, sulking near the back, her eyes burning into the back of Merlin's skull. After a few minutes of this guarded quietness, Merlin had had quite enough.

"You keep using all of these strange words," he began, and the angels startled when he spoke; he supposed this was because of his voice, which seemed to be pitched 3 octaves lower than theirs. "Maethor? Ayal? Cemen? What do these words mean? If I am to help with whatever problem that has befallen you, I would like to understand the laws of your people."

"Those words you mention are the names of our ranks," Hashna replied. "Our positions in life. The Maethor are our warriors, the Cemen spirits of nature, those who protect and learn from it. The Ayer is our ruler, what you would call a queen. We also have the Kal, our seers, the Dariger, our healers, and," her voice took on an almost reverent hush, "the Amil. The caretakers of our young."

"Young?" Merlin asked, "From what I understand, you are all female. How can you reproduce if you have no male counterpart?"

"Our children are not born of our flesh. They are born of the earth, and of magic." This caught Merlin's attention.

"How is this possible?" he asked.

"Our young are born in a sacred place, and are cared for by the Amil until they are old enough to begin living within our ranks."

"And what is this place called?" Merlina asked.

"The place from which our children emerge from the earth is named _cristalla hl¯æw_ : it is the most sacred of places, and most have only beheld it at the time of their birth." Merlin stopped walking. Could it be? Or could it be some mistake? Maybe his brain had been addled by the events of that day, but _cristalla hl¯æw_ sounded an awful lot like the Ancient Language's name for,

"The Crystal Cave?" he asked.


	13. Chapter 13

Arthur exchanged disbelieving looks with his knights as he was tugged along reluctantly by Megan. Was this funny little old woman telling the truth about his knights being alive, or were they simply the ramblings of a mind half gone?

Megan gabbled on about the amazing things Merlin had done while they were *ahem* absent. Apparently, he had become quite the soldier. He fought in both world wars (apparently there were two), and in the second one, had saved Megan from getting a foul beating at the hands of something called a Nazi. According to Megan, a Nazi had been calling out to her from across the street, and Megan had approached angrily and smacked him upside the head with her purse.

"A scoundrel, he was," Megan growled, shuffling through a patch of daisies, "He deserved what he had coming. I don't know what happened to that no-good pillock, but I assume he's dead now." Arthur, Gwen and the knights shared incredulous looks at this. They never thought they would hear such things come out of the mouth of such a kindly-looking old woman.

Soon, the group noticed that the woods around them seemed to be getting brighter, rays of golden sunlight flowing in between the leaves, green despite the oncoming winter. They noticed patches of jewel-bright flowers of all breeds coloring the way before them. Gwen gasped in adoration as they came upon a quaint little house sitting beside a lake.

"Oh, isn't it darling?" she asked, smiling as they entered into the shade of its eaves.

"Indeed it is," answered Megan, "I convinced him to let me decorate when he moved in. It was the least I could do, honestly, considering all the times he saved my life. I was quite reckless when I was younger." She laughed heartily. "Oh, how many admonitions I got from him, I lost count." She spoke of Merlin intimately, as though he were a relic of her past, and a precious one, at that.

"Did you love him?" asked Leon. Megan's voice took on a wistful tone.

"Once, I did. My first true experience with love." She smiled slightly at the memory.

"What happened?" asked Gwen, intrigued.

"He kept turning me down when I advanced. And then I realized that I was getting older, and he wasn't aging a day. I began to see him more as a son than a lover, and now I care for him as such." The wistfulness faded from her eyes. "Worry not, he may have been my first experience with love, but he was certainly not the last. Now, let's not get lost in memories. It's not much use to get lost in history when it's happening right in front of you." She then rapped the door with her wizened old knuckles.

They heard the thud of heavy footsteps approaching the door before it was opened by a rather large man. The man had cut-short blond hair, small blue eyes, and bulging muscles seemingly everywhere. He had on a plain grey shirt with three small buttons near the neck, all of them undone, and a faded pair of the strange blue trousers Gwen was wearing. He smiled brightly when he saw who was on the doorstep, and gathered them all in one great bear hug.

"Oh, how I missed you all!" he cried, squeezing ever tighter.

"Hello Percival," Arthur choked. "I would say hello if I could breathe."

"Arthur?" called a voice from within the house.

"Gaius!" yelled Arthur in delight, pulling free of Percival's grip and rushing inside to embrace the age-old physician, as old, creaky and wrinkly as he had ever been, with a permanent scowl on his face. Percival set them all down, still beaming like it was market day, and Gwen racing into the house after Arthur to tearfully kiss Gaius on both cheeks before throwing her arms around him. He had become a sort of father figure after Gwen's father was killed after escaping from prison, in which he was being kept on a sorcery charge. The charge was complete and utter poppycock, but Uther Pendragon never listened to reason once he began thirsting for blood.

After tearful greetings, there came a softer voice from up the stairs, one filled with wonder and nostalgia, as though the owner couldn't decide if the scene in front of him was real, or just a dream.

"Gwen!"

Gwen looked up and covered a hand with her mouth as Elyan came zooming down the stairs with startling intensity, just a blur as he bowled over his older sister. Gwen screamed, half in joy and half in fear as she went down, and soon she was somehow laughing and crying at the same time on the entry hall carpet as Elyan squeezed the soul out of her.

Everyone looked on this touching reunion between siblings, and couldn't resist joining in their little hug fest. They gathered around, and just held each other after so long being apart, sharing in the memories of their past, a time they could never go back to. A time that they thought was lost forever. Gaius looked on disapprovingly, though if you looked closely, you could see a hint of a smile on his naturally downturned mouth. Megan smiled, feeling happier than she had in awhile, seeing the little makeshift family back together again. She decided she would bring dinner for them later, and quietly showed herself out. It was a moment before Gaius spoke up, ending their reunion.

"Where's Merlin?" Everyone froze and looked around. So their reunion wasn't as perfect as it seemed. They inquired of one another Merlin's whereabouts, but no one had an answer. As time wore on, the worry lines on Gaius's face seemed to carve themselves deeper into his skin. It was quite distressing to watch.

"Are you sure he's, you know…" Gaius began.

"Alive?" asked Elyan.

"He's alive, all right," said Arthur, "He has been for all this time." The ones first hearing of this strange phenomenon exchanged looks of shock, confusion and uncomfortability. Gaius looked unsurprised, and heaved a heavy sigh.

"Yes, I expected he would be," he intoned sadly, a new kind of melancholy sucking the life out of his eyes, "That poor boy."

"You knew this would happen?" asked Arthur, detaching himself from the rest of the group to stand before Gaius.

"No, I did not know that we would somehow be brought back from the dead, if that's what you're asking," Gaius snapped, "I estimated that Merlin would live far longer than the rest of us."

"And why's that?" asked Percival, dropping Gwen back onto her feet, having finished

hugging her.

"He's a sorcerer," Gwaine stated. He seemed as though he were still trying to wrap his head around the idea. Looks of incredulity circulated around the room, coupled with shocked gasps and shouts. Again, Gaius looked unsurprised. Arthur assumed he would, seeing that he harbored Merlin for more than 10 years, and probably taught him everything he knew. He had dabbled in sorcery in his youth, after all.

"But… how could he not tell us?" Percival asked, a betrayed look crossing his features.

"Yeah, he was our friend. He must of known that we would have protected him no matter what the cost," agreed Leon.

"I still have no idea why," Arthur answered, remembering Merlin conjuring a dragon from their campfire, controlling the winds to befuddle the minds of invading Saxons. Merlin killing a group of soldiers without even touching them. "I never got to have a word about with him about that. I expect to when we see him again." That was when Gaius piped up again, sitting down in a rather squishy armchair in the sitting room.

"None of you understand him at all, do you?" This remark was met with silence as everyone turned to meet the eyes of the wise old man before them.

"What are you talking about?"

"You say that telling you would have made his life so much simpler for Merlin if he just told you what he was, and yes, that would be true. But it would have made life hell for you. Arthur, you've been taught ever since birth that magic and those who practice it are inherently evil, and that nothing of that sort would ever be tolerated in Camelot. Your father even told you that magic killed your mother. What would it have been like to know that your dearest friend held the same power that killed her? How would it feel to know that your personal servant, the man closest to you, had the power to overthrow your kingdom with just a few words? How do you think you would react if your entire moral system was challenged, maybe even broken? And you," he said turning toward the knights, a fire in his eyes. "You are knights of the round table, whose lives are dedicated to upholding the morals and laws of Camelot. The laws against magic are the most serious and heavily enforced in the entire kingdom. If you found that Merin practiced magic, then you would have had no choice but to enforce the law, in other words, execute him, whether you watch him die or execute him by your own hand. Or else you defy the oath you took when you were knighted, you lawfully betray your kingdom, and face exile and death."

Leon stood ramrod straight, his eyes fixed on something in the distance, like any good soldier, Elyan was studying his shoes, Gwaine stared at Gaius, shame apparent on his face, and Percival sank into a chair. Arthur felt his heart sink in remorse. He remembered being angry with Merlin when he first showed him his true self, and what he could do. He had called Merlin a liar and a traitor even while he dragged his unresponsive body to the lake of Avalon in an attempt to save his life. He had called Merlin hopeless and useless, even while he put his life on the line for the good of Camelot as well as Arthur's life. How ungrateful he had been! And still, Arthur didn't know the half of what he'd done for him. When Merlin returned to his home, Arthur would be sure to apologize for how he had treated him.

"You're right, Gaius," Gwaine declared.

"How many times have we mistreated him?" asked Leon. "How many times have we teased him for being useless, for being an add-on?"

"Too many," Percival put in.

"Oh, will you all stop wallowing?" Gwen asked, straightening to her full, rather unimpressive height. "We will make it up to him when he comes back. But now, let's go find something to eat." She stalked out of the living area and into what everyone assumed was the kitchen. It had a table, counters, cupboards and a plethora of other strange doohickeys that no one had ever seen before. There was a silence following Gwen's exit.

"Well," Gwaine said finally, "That was some group therapy session."

"Agreed. Let's never do it again." Arthur replied before following Gwen into the kitchen.


End file.
